In Remembrance
by Blue Eyes Arch Angel
Summary: A collection of my unseen/unpublished works from various Hunger Games syots/collabs.
1. Azura-Jay Dennis, D4 Male, Reaping

_**Originally written for and uploaded on Thirteen on Jakey121's, a 24 author collab that was unfortunately deleted due to being unfinished. A blog is available on my profile.**_

 ** _Azura is by far my most favourite character that I have created for the hunger games fandom. I find it strange how strongly I can identify with him at times, and others he feels like a completely unique person all of his own. When I wrote this chapter I never knew how much he would develop or how much people would like him in future. This chapter is his beginning as a depressed teenager, blind since the age of three with a dead twin brother and painful, locked away feelings for the only person that cares about him._**

 ** _Speaking of which, Spritz is also one of my favourite creations, mainly due to how well he balances out with Azura and how much he cares for him._**

 ** _By the way, Sprizura is my OTP for life._**

* * *

 **Azura-Jay Dennis**

 **2 hours before the reaping**

Waking up was like any other dreary pointless day of the year.

Given the chance, I would have just lain in my bed alone again today. A change of scenery meant nothing to me; it was all the same. Pure darkness.

My whole world was dark, like hell frozen over and spiced with that choking salty sea air. It was disgusting. Out of every district and I had to have been brought into the miserable existence of this one. The sea air did no wonder for my lungs; the sea itself was wet cold and unfriendly and the children….

They were naïve simpletons who led a pointless life in search for glory in bloodshed and gore. Their glory is just false happiness; somehow I was never able to convince Conch Lark that, now his grave is ironically buried in water.

Unfortunately though, Spritz had decided to break into my room again today and drag me out, away from the cold atmosphere of the house into the blazing sun of the district that did not brighten anything for me, but simply burned my pale and scarred skin. He had some nerve to do this, though strangely I did not bother stopping him. It's just pointless after all. Under all his charm and wit and supposedly good looks, he is just another naïve district 4 career and on this bloody day he just wants to spend some meaningless time with me outside.

Might as well let the dog have his bone.

As we walked, my hand snaked up to his shoulder. He was quite a bit taller than myself. From what he tells me about his looks, he's also another blonde pretty boy. Myself, I'm rather short, average weight. Nothing special at all. Once, I remember asking for Spritz to dye my hair a dark blue. It's the only colour I can remember before my sight and my world vanished completely, and it certainly was sad one. How appropriate it was...

I let go of Spritz for a moment and step back. He doesn't seem to move so I shift round a bit and slowly sneak back-hopefully-behind his line of vision. Then, almost like an instinct, my hand reaches to my arm. I can feel the nails of that hand dig so strongly into the skin, breaking through and letting a little blood seep out. These nails drag themselves through the fragile skin, leaving long thick marks. It doesn't sting. After the first few times it stopped hurting. Well, that was after everything stopped hurting. Long ago, my pain faded along with Conch's. I stop scratching for a moment and gently let my aching hand clamp around the thick sticky substance coating my arm. Old memories flash back.

I may never have actually watched the games but I could sense what was going on simply from the screams, not the mention the sickly sound of blood slowly flowing from your veins. That sound kept rushing through his head, the blood flow from his arms, and Conch's chest…It all drained at once until there was nothing left. For me, this is the only solitude I can find in this disgusting world.

AH!

My trance is quickly broken by that idiot Spritz, and from the feel of his rough hands he's concerned. I wish he would stop that. Breath stops in my throat.

"Azura Jay, what did I tell you about this habit?" he scolds me.

I say nothing. It's not like he expects a reaction so he continues.

"Please, will you stop harming yourself. Just, try focusing on something else" he says. For some reason, he touches the smooth fabric of the cloth on my eyes. Everything tenses.

The pressure of his hands then suddenly fades as he lets go. Then, he lets out one of those annoying, cheeky chuckles of his.

"Hey, maybe you could focus on this!"

I can't see what he's referring to but knowing him he's making a shallow gesture and is pointing to his body.

"Shut up" I manage to mutter back. It irritates me to no end when he talks about himself. I have never seen him once and deeply hate his trying to save me in any form. It's useless.

 _Then why do I let him?_

"Excuse me, get outta my way!"

There is only a split second after this reaches my ears as a sharp pain slams in my chest, knocking me back. The pain rushes out quickly and I'm just left confused, and not to mention seriously unhappy. Reaching out my pale hands, I search pointlessly for whoever this mysterious assailant is. If it's Spritz I will unwillingly forgive him, anyone else and they have given me one more reason to hate life.

"Sorry, but I warned you. Listen next time" a female voice seems to arrogantly speak in front of me.

Doing what I usually do to strangers I hiss and muster an angry look, but when I don't hear her scampering away any other pathetic child I speak up.

"I will, but only because you'll be screaming in agony" I eventually breathe out. Deep down I know I'm not even joking.

"No, it will be you" this girl somehow retaliates. She's feisty. I hate that.

"We'll see, it's not hard to cut someone right down the brittle sensitive core of their soul and shatter it without mercy" I hiss back. Even I can feel the ice of my tone of voice in this statement. Hopefully that broke her. Sometimes it takes true words to bring these oblivious beings into reality. A hand is placed on my shoulder, most likely my pretty boy friend.

He whispers the words "Azura, chill" but as usual his words are useless.

With no feeling, I wait for her response. I don't get any but somehow I know she is certainly not happy with me; that makes two of us.

As the silence continues, something flops beside my feet. It continues to flop around desperately and as I listen carefully, I hear breathing. A fish most likely, Spritz taught me about them. If it came from her then she must be one of those fisherman.

"That fish struggling for air...reminds me of tributes in the arena, their desperate struggle when in a new and dangerous place that threatens them with a slow, painful death but their struggle is all in vain as their life is sapped from their lungs by mindless killers who don't realise their actions...from what I see that could be you" are my final words to her.

Spritz places a hand back on my shoulder after I say that. I guess he could notice a change in my tone.

There is silence for a moment, then the girl laughs nervously. Her footsteps crunch on the grass and faded until they are even out of range of my hearing.

And another one gone. They always walk away.

"Way to go Azura, you just scared off yet another person" Spritz scolds me. I shrug it off easily, until the girl yells back

"I'm not scared! I'm just needed to go and kick some butt!"

I sniffle, but then look down hoping Spritz didn't hear that. Emotions clog my mind, so I forcefully grab Spritz and drag the pain of an love away, all the while with him yelling

"Sorry! Please forgive him!"

I don't need forgiving. You can't even get forgiveness in this world.

"Maybe!"

…I stop.

She just shouted 'maybe'.

She didn't mean it.

Or did she?

As usual I just shrug it off and continue. I've said it before. I hate kindness.

* * *

Another year, another reaping.

After that little encounter with that unusual girl, Spritz had dragged me back to his house. I haven't spoken since then. He had simply dressed me in a silk blue shirt and trousers to match. He told me to look 'as cute as I always am' at the reaping today. I really wish he would stop giving me false optimism.

"Hey, Azura" he mumbles beside me. I don't bother speaking but I turn my face towards his face. I get confused when I don't hear a reply but then a pair of rough hands snake around my neck and leave something smooth behind. Hesitantly, snake my own hands up and feel something silky like my outfit.

I want to stab him. I hate it when he's so kind to me. Kindness is just another lie.

Shortly, we are both ushered toward the seventeen year old boy's area. Spritz stays beside me the whole time. Once I feel the noise and disruption settle down, heavy footsteps clomp along the stage to the front. A throaty cough is let out and then a male voice begins to speak. It must the mayor.

He starts off the usual monotonous routine with a false "good day", then continues on to read out the treaty of treason. None of that stands out for me

My attention is partially brought back as the actual reaping begins. I can hear the mayor step backwards and a lighter pair of footsteps takes his place.

"And now, the radiant Roxanne!"

Must be our escort.

"Wh-why thank y-you, h-how sw-sweet" she compliments him. She has quite a soft voice. Nothing like that girl from earlier.

"N-now for a-a v-video all the way from the C-c-c-capitol!"

She then lets out an annoying giggle, much like Spritz when he laughs, then plays the normal biased, exaggerated capitol video for us. For the most part, the words escape me and I lose myself in dark boredom.

Then something caught the attention of my ears.

Screaming. Familiar screaming of young sixteen year old male.

They are showing some clips of last year's games which could only mean…

Conch.

The video ends shortly but the screaming still echoes through my ears. In an instant I am lost again in my dark fantasy, just Conch and I.

The girls are first so I don't bother listening. Because this idiotic district thrives on bloodshed, she asks for volunteers. All at once I can feel and hear the rush of many girls eager and willing to participate.

Such a pointless struggle.

In the end, someone makes it up there and announces their name.

"Oceava Lac!" her voice rings out through the area. It's…familiar.

Wait, it's that arrogant girl from before.

I laugh under my breath. I guess I was right after all. She is just another mindless killer.

The boys are next.

Just as she finishes stuttering her sentence, Conch takes over my thoughts. Sprinting now that my impulsiveness has taken over, I reach the stage before any other boy can, and just to be safe I hiss at them. I can hear all of them step carefully back away from me. They're all just scared of me, the cowards, and they call themselves careers.

I don't hear the familiar breathing of Spritz. He must have been too confused to do anything about it. After all, he wouldn't understand; I have something that needs to put be to rest. I smile sadly, but keep my head low so no-one sees it. A strong hand grips tightly to my arm and I feel myself being dragged in the right direction next to the girl. A low growl indicates she is not happy to see me again.

She asks me my name. I just mumble "Azura Jay Dennis" to her and look away.

After the final statements, which seem to take ages due to the escort's stuttering, we finally shake hands. Blindly, I place mine out and wait her hand.

But it's not what I expect. Instead of a rough, sarcastic shake it's normal. Hissing, I pull away. The warmth of human contact is yet another false thing I hate.

 _Then why did I like it when Spritz touched me?_


	2. Oceava Lac, D4 Female, Capitol

**_Originally written for and uploaded on Thirteen on Jakey121's account, but is now deleted due to it being unfinished._**

 ** _Oceava was not my character. She was created by the user newbie11 (also called nymphie11) as the district partner to my Azura. We got along well and our characters resonated with one another really well. Sadly the author dropped out of the story but I was honoured to be able write Oceava's capitol chapter in their place. Despite dying in the bloodbath in the end we had planned for her to ally with Azura later on if she survived. This chapter was dedicated to the original author._**

* * *

This training has been tougher than I had expected. Those trainers really did go all out on you in those sessions. It's a thankful thing Fiche let me train at his centre day in day out, otherwise my grip on the training stations could have faltered badly. Difficult or not though, I admit they were quite enjoyable (which my brother always told me to do when training, takes away the stress) and along with my newfound alliance, I think we have made quite a name for ourselves to the others. Hopefully, many of them now not I'm not to be underestimated. Especially that fickle depressing blind boy I was dragged here with. I'll show him I'm not just another 'mindless career'. I'm so much stronger than that.

Still, after all of that I seem to have had all the energy drained from me. Disgusting sweat is dripping slowly from my forehead and the rest of my body. I didn't think I'd worked off that much energy. A small sniff and I realise I also stink.

Ugh I could really use a hot shower, and I'm not going to get one walking at this snail's pace. My mouth arches into a grin. Yeah, I can still muster some energy. Taking a deep breath, before I know it my legs are pumping and I'm now accelerating down the hallway. Stamina training has certainly advanced my running well because now my body is just speeding down this corridor. On my way I end up passing by several of the other tributes. Harrison gives me a small smile and a friendly boy from district 3, James Temple something directs me an odd look, but Silver flashes me her confident smile. Seeing the elected leader of our career alliance fills me with the get go I need. To think, everything has paid off. I'm here now, stronger than ever and allied with some of the strongest tributes the games have ever seen.

It's all turning out right for me, it's all-

BASH!

Ugh, whatever I just banged into was certainly heavy. My head is already developing a dull ache.

"…You again, no-one else runs with such brutal unnecessary force"

That voice. A muffled groan gets past my lips and as pull my heavy body from the floor, then I direct my eyes up to whoever I just ran into.

Oh great. Blind boy again. I'd better say something witty.

"Gee, thanks. It's good for knocking people over, or so I remember"

"I know that from first-hand experience"

I chuckle a bit. Oh right, I remember that. He certainly wasn't happy that time either. Not like I cared.

"I'm glad you were down, but it's a pity you weren't down and out, that simply would have made my day"

I laugh a little bit but stop as soon as his face contorts with irritation, though strangely not quite as angered as it was before.

"You know, you're not really making my perception of you any better"

That idiot, doesn't he ever get a hint?

"You do realize we are going into the arena to kill each other, right? The more hate each other, the more likely we'll kill each other. Sound like a plan?"

"If you don't want to end up dead, don't make enemies"

But I won't die.

"I won't be dead, to win, the others need to die, if you make enemies you can just kill them. What did you expect, everyone to drop their weapons and hug each other?"

I smile proudly at him. Maybe that will shut him up for a moment. But then he does something unexpected. He smiles. It's more like an arrogant smile but it's still unusual for this guy.

"You know, at first you were becoming a thorn in my side and i wasn't going to hesitate killing you first, but now i may spare your life for a while longer"

Was he…just merciful? Maybe he isn't so bad. Just maybe, but I can't let him know that yet.

"I was going to kill you first, but maybe I'll save you for later…Shark"

I have no idea where that nickname came from, it just seemed appropriate in some way.

"Shark? That's a new one, fine, I'll see you later…piranha"

I smirk at my own given nickname.

"Pirahna? Not so new, but useable"

His smiles soon fades a bit.

"Whatever, you nearly got 'angel fish' but that title belongs to someone else"

That statement confuses me a bit. No, wait…it couldn't have been…not that blond boy before…

"Damn it!"

I don't get to dwell further on that as Azura seems to exclaim rather loudly from behind. My body whips round to see Azura standing in front of a rather tall and slender woman with tanned skin and matted black hair, who is looking at him apologetically.

"Sorry! I must have got distracted again. It's good to see you Azura…oh and you too Oceava!"

Oh, it must Brook, our mentor. She's a bit of a ditzy person but I'll admit, her advice so far has been useful. Azura just grumbles and steps to one side, fixing the scarf around his neck.

"Still fiddling with that, huh? Why don't we actually go inside?" she exclaims.

Confused I turn my head. Turns out I had bumped into the shark right outside the room for district. Brook leads the way in, myself leading after and Azura shortly following.

Once inside, our mentor sits us both down at the main table. She sits at the other side of us on the furnished table. I sit straight across from her. Azura is sitting at the very end of the table. I think he chose that seat deliberately.

I wait for a moment for what she has to say. Well, I'm actually waiting for her to stop fiddling with her hair. Really? I just want to get on with it. I thought she was supposed to be mentoring us?

I give a small cough and she looks up at me.

"Oh right, sorry! Alright, today was training right?"

I nod.

"Fine, I'd a review of how it went for both of you. Oceava, did get into that alliance with the other careers?"

I nod again.

"Perfect, now you just have to keep your wits about, don't ever let your guard around them for a second, unless you want to die! Like I nearly did…"

I roll my eyes. She is always going on about that. I think she might have suffered some sort of post-traumatic stress.

"How about everything else? Anything you got stuck on, anything you seem to have excelled at? I need to know everything" she says, her tone lowering with a more serious essence to it. Finally. Slowly but calmly I explain the entire day, from the first exercises, to the training stations, to the alliance. Brook presses me further on that one. She asks about each member in the group. I explain about each one individually, their strengths and weaknesses-Zeo, Silver, Talon, Kaya and Fir. She looks slightly confused at Fir, him being from a lower district after all. After I finish she seems to contemplate for a moment.

"Alright, good. It's seems you're going strong at the moment Oceava. Keep it up"

Azura huffs. Brook turns her head to him.

"How about you Azura? How did training go for you?" she asks.

He remains silent.

"Azura-Jay?"

He still doesn't say anything. Though his face is turned towards us, I hear him let out a small sob. Brooks reaches he long, lanky arm out to his should but just inches before she touches him, he storms out his chair and hurriedly finds his way back to his room. An awkward silence fills the room for a moment. But after some time Brokk gets herself up from her own chair, stretches then looks back at me.

"You know, I think it's about time we turned in for the night too, oh and get a shower too Oceava, you stink from all that training" she mutters with a smile before sauntering off to her own room. I get up myself, walking back to my room, but on my way I hear some sobs. I stop for a moment. There are more choked sobs coming from the room next to me. Azura's room. Maybe I should forgive after all.

Just maybe.


	3. Azura-Jay Dennis, D4 Male, Capitol

**_Originally written for Thirteen on jakey121's account, a 24 author collab that was unfortunately deleted due to being unfinished. This chapter was never published. A blog is available on my profile._**

 ** _This is the chapter where Azura started to regret his decision to volunteer to basically die. Since it was such a simple chapter premise I could go into what I wanted with his thoughts, and since it was so close to the games I though it would be interesting to show the changes Azura may have gone through during his time in the capitol, namely his descent into regret, loneliness and further depression._**

 ** _Azura also appeared in several other capitol chapters written by other authors, all of which showcased different sides of his personality. There were three in total that I remember. One was Zeo Radonix, a career tribute that flirted with Azura, showing Azura's disgust with the careers and what they stand for. Another was Harrison Sigell, a kindly tribute from district eight that unfortunately experienced Azura's sadistic side. Then there was Neon Edison, the overall victor of Thirteen, which showed his broken, emotional side. Though they were all different in their portrayals, at the same time they were all spot on with his twisted personality._**

* * *

It's all a show, they say.

I hate shows.

They all put on their masks, covering up the black undertones of the reality, creating a bright and 'glorious' image for the lesser people watching. Not for me however, it's the same old darkness. These past few days have been stressful, no doubt. I've had to handle everyone trying to place their mask on me. I'm not sure what more they could hide. I've tried to refuse and keep myself to myself but something about this place seems to grate on me. The training, the chariots…It's all in an attempt to please the sponsors. Not that they get to know the real you, not until we're thrown together in a tidal wave of civil blood.

It's the final day now. Most of the other tributes have gone off somewhere, trying to enjoy their final moments. Some are alone in their rooms. Some are making last minute alliances. The careers are discussing plans against the weaker ones for tomorrow. Myself…well I'm not quite sure where I am. A hallway I presume, hands sliding along the smooth painted walls of the building, legs tiredly dragging along. Trying to put up with the incessant efforts from the other tributes has exhausted me. Especially those in particular that have tried to make efforts to socialise with me (but thankfully gave up). That interrogative girl from district three, Neon I think it was. She was certainly popular. All I remember hearing was 'Neon this' and 'Neon that'. She must have made enough allies to last herself through the games. Though, I bet anything that girl is probably just another conniving witch who'll be using them as scapegoats. Oceava was certainly right on one thing, friends aren't made in the games.

But even she wasn't the worst of them. There's also that Oceava back from home who's been hounding me. I haven't gotten her forgiveness yet I see. Just as well, not like I need it. I don't need her false apologies. No doubt she's with our moron of a mentor right now, discussing her 'near death experience'. If I were her I would have given up there and then. What's the point of suffering for longer when you could just let it end? How I would have savoured that moment, when I would no longer have to live this pathetic excuse of a lie.

Speaking of lies, that idiot Harrison…if anyone ends up with their blood on my hands it'll be his. How dare he…how DARE he act like that. That idiotic, overly optimistic and naïve boy. I've always hated lies and liars, but he had to be the worst, next to his obnoxious mentor Tabitha. He doesn't know what he's going in to if he says he 'doesn't want to hurt anyone'. He won't make it one second. Worse still, his annoyingly cheerful demeanour was so much like Spritz's. That should be outlawed.

Hell, speaking of Spritz I bet if he were here he'd be apologising and saying that it's his fault I sunk to volunteering. He can be such an idiot sometimes.

The corners of my mouth twitch. A low chuckle escapes me. The thought of his pleading voice is kind of funny…and also kind of cute.

What am I saying?

I slam my body against the wall and breathe in and out slowly. All my thoughts stop for a moment. Silence echoes through the corridor. After a few seconds, with no sound of footsteps in either direction, my limp body slides down from the wall, collapsing in a small heap on the floor. Arms snake around my knees as I pull them closer to my chest. It hurts but a let out a few choked up sobs. There is nothing. No noise, no light. Some would call this serene but it's haunting. At times like this, Spritz would usually burst in like a blinding ray of sunshine. He'd roughly pull me out of bed, perkily singing 'good morning' then brush my dark locks from my face because he thinks my face 'is too pretty to hide from the world'. Weakly, my head rises from between my knees. Hair is falling all over my face, the soft streaks overlapping my skin.

So I wait.

And wait.

I wait forever.

No-one brushes it away.

It hurts more now, as I grit my teeth so strongly. I do the same with my hands, balling them into tight fists.

It's stupid, I am not getting upset, I don't care if he's not here, I don't need anyone. If I die here I won't regret it.

I freeze.

Something wet drips from the insides of my fists, dripping from a dull ache.

 _If you don't care why are you hurting yourself?_

Old words from Conch-Lark echo in my brain.

 _Get over it bro, look I'm gonna win those games this year, then I'll show you that not everything you see…well, hear is fake._

Stupid Conch. Even he lied to me.

 _And get one thing straight Az, I would never lie to you. Sure you're pathetic, but you are my twin after all. Cheer up for god sake! It's not all doom and gloom._

How wrong he was. I'm not sure this day could be any darker, my mind wants to tear something apart but my body wants to stay where it is.

"No surprise seeing you on the floor"

That voice. I don't recognise it, but it doesn't matter. I'm not letting down my guard to some random worthless stranger. I utter a low growl before lifting myself slowly from the hard floor. It doesn't matter right now that my body wants to drop dead, but I'm not giving off the wrong impression to this guy.

"Who the hell are you?" I mutter. I can feel the anger boiling in my chest.

"Figured you would ask me that. Name's Alex. Alex Finch, district ten, ring a bell? Of course it wouldn't, you upper district career lot wouldn't care about that now, would you?"

His voice is dripping with sarcasm. I can't help but notice how much it sounded like my own.

"Look kid, if there's one thing i'm not, it's one of those mindless careers. One major difference, they're looking for fame. I think fame is a lie. So just go and crawl back to your own district room, I am not in the mood to deal with irritating tributes like you"

Silence hangs awkwardly for a short moment. At first I think he is going to leave me alone. But then…then he laughs. Only quietly but it feels sincere.

"Looks like we have one and the same view then. Fame? Yeah, it's a lie. Judging by your usual depressing mood I should deduced that was your opinion earlier"

I don't believe it, did he just agree with me? How odd, maybe there are some intelligent beings in this controlling facility. I'm not sure how to react at first, I've haven't quite encountered anyone like this before. But somehow, I'm finding myself smirking.

"You know, I never thought I'd meet someone who actually has some sense around here"

This time I don't even get a response. His face may elude me but I can sense him. He's not happy. What the hell is his problem?

"Alright, what do you want from me?" he asks. Now I'm confused.

"What? If you hadn't noticed idiot, I'm being friendly which is a rare thing is for you 'tributes' to ever get"

"Exactly. You're never kind. You wouldn't just start like that if you didn't want something"

I grit my teeth. Just who does this guy think he is anyway? In a swift movement my hand clamps around the scruff of his neck, then ours bodies take a sharp twist as we switch places, him up against the wall.

"Look" I start, my lips moving closer to his ear "I don't even know why I even let you socialise with me, like all the others. Sure, I'll agree with you about false emotions, so I'll show you the real me" I almost whisper in his ear.

He doesn't seem to tremble below me. That fool. My fist clenches again, the blood still trickling down it as I raise it threateningly. If he says one more word, just one more I'll…

"Hey, shark!"

Not again. I still don't let go of Alex but I do turn my head slightly. I can't accurately judge who is behind me but by the sounds of their breathing I could estimate at about four or five. Judging by who's voice it is too, they must be the career pack.

"Hey look, pretty boy again"

I know that voice. It's that damn Zeo again.

"Come on, are you gonna put that guy down? Bloodshed comes later, big guy"

I don't recognise that voice, but it sounds female, coming from right beside Zeo. My best guess would be his district partner. I utter a low growl to ward them off, but realising I'm outnumbered my hand loosens its grip on the district ten boy's shirt. He doesn't scurry off but he seems to casually walk away. However, as his footsteps fade I feel others advancing closer to me.

"You know, someone strong like you would be a great asset to our team" one of them suggests.

That tears it.

"No"

"What was that?"

"I SAID NO!" my voice considerably louder, rage evident. Whispers are swapped between them, about me no doubt, but at this point I just don't care.

"Get one thing straight, I would never join a mindless, brutal lot like you. You're all pathetic, aiming for false glory in bloodshed. It's disgusting. Just when I thought my life could get any darker I run into people like you. All i'm here for is a way out of this miserable existence but I'll be damned if you're the ones to end it"

I direct my head to where I assume Oceava is standing.

"And you, don't bother forgiving me now. I know you wouldn't mean it"

With that I walk off. They aren't whispering now; they're full out talking what they want about me. I really don't care now. I don't care about anything. My body still aches but I pick up the pace. I just want to get back, back to my room. I don't think any tribute has ever wanted the games to come more quickly. I'm still running, hands sliding on the painted walls, until they reach and touch a familiar door. I know it's for district four because of certain patterns in the wood. I slam it open. There's a small crack but I don't care if it's broken. Instead I keep moving, hands out reaching my the door to my rooms.

"Hey Azura-Jay, what's the rush" Brook asks me softly from the other side of the room.

"Go to hell"

Eventually I find my door. My shaking hand reaches up to the smooth doorknob, but somehow I can't quite bring myself to open it.

"Azura"

I shudder. Someone is whispering to me.

Not just anyone.

Oceava.

"Look, you don't seem to be taking this greatly. At first I just thought you were obnoxious and rude, but overtime you seemed to have changed. Maybe you aren't so bad"

It's really hard right now not letting any tears out.

"Look, if it makes any difference to you, I forgive you"

With that, she walks away, leaving me completely confused.

She said it. She forgives me. Not like I deserve it now.

"…Pirahna"

"What?"

I take a few deep breaths. What I want to say, I never thought I'd say it. Not to anyone other than Spritz.

"Thank you"


	4. Azura-Jay Dennis, D4 Male, Arena (Day 5)

**_Originally written for on Thirteen on jakey121's channel, a 24 author collab that was unfortunately deleted due to being unfinished. This chapter was never published. A blog is available on my profile._**

 ** _This is my favourite chapter that I wrote for Azura, because it shows his rise from the ashes, and because of the musical influence being one of my favourite songs and essentially now Azura's theme song. Though I initially created him as a broken man, after really getting into his character I saw him almost as a friend that I wanted to succeed, so I made finally realise his reasons for living so he could finally fight back against his own darkness and insecurities. The most important of those reasons was finally accepting his love for Spritz, and in turn accepting that kindness and love isn't a lie, something which I myself have had to learn._**

 ** _Unfortunately Azura would have met his demise at the hands of Erina Harte if the story had continued, being placed 12th. I would have liked to have seen him return home to Spritz's loving arms, but that is the cruelty of the games. I hadn't decided on the fate of Spritz after that. I would either have had him commit suicide out of shock and depression, continue to live for Azura's sake or volunteered in the next games out of revenge or to find some meaning in life._**

* * *

 _Bring me home in a blinding dream_

 _Through the secrets that I have seen_

 _Wash the sorrow from off my skin_

 _Show me how to be whole again_

This is sick.

This is seriously sick.

One year of mourning. 4 years of holding in heartache. Six years sending children off to die. Fourteen years of darkness. Seventeen years of hell.

Through everything I've had to endure for all these painstakingly torturous years, every single nightmare and false kindness, I should have been able to handle this. This should have been a way to clear my conscious, wipe the slate clean and forget everything I've left behind. But time and time again, the people of the capitol have demonstrated just why they are to be feared and not messed with. At every given opportunity, just somehow they've found ways bring back memories of 'him' and have tried to push me closer to others. If they had just let me be then such a simple bloody task like this wouldn't have been so difficult.

Their first missile was this arena. The very first and only thing I could hear once those platforms were raised was the familiar sound of gushing water. Echoes of strong waves crashing on shore. Who knew that could reduce someone to the brink of fear. I remember my legs locking instantly, like being frozen in time, in a memory. I was home. I was there, on shore, feet sinking into the hot sand of the beach. Small, weaker foaming waves tickling at my toes. A salty, tangy breeze brushing my locks, whipping the bangs back in front of my face. Someone brushes them away. And again, my heart stops but for a different reason. Then the peace is shattered by the distinct cries of gulls.

But the cries faded into screams. Before I knew it, the countdown had already ended and all chaos had broken loose. My reactions must have been instant. I found myself sprinting at top speed towards wherever the memory was taking me. The only thing that followed behind were the echoes of seven cannons. Seven less worries.

And one scream.

One feminine scream, with the essence of shock, fear and anger that their ultimate demise was too sudden-

No. I still don't want to believe it.

Oceava didn't die.

No, she is still out there, with those bloodthirsty careers somewhere, slowly stalking down other vulnerable tributes one by one. Yes, she's still there, as strong as ever.

These tears are not out of sadness, but from laughing; I believed she was dead for a moment.

Yes…

It's ironic how emotional bonds can break spirits.

Since the first seven, the death toll has risen to ten. Nearly half of my worries have faded. Instead though, where the worries of tributes have vanished this has been replaced by terror. Every second sitting here only adds to the tension. Who knows, any moment now those three other tributes could discover and kill me.

I choke out a couple of sobs. I sound so pathetic, but I'm finding it hard to care any more. Somehow I wish they would just find me already and end this. They're not idiots I'll admit that but somehow they can't see me sat soaking in the shallow waters in the cornered off area. If I'm right with their voices, Zedock, Alyssa and Erina are still scoping around the place. It's no challenge in this part of the arena though to survive. From what I've felt around it's all shallow water and sand. However, someone has died here. It must have been Winter, as she had quite an innocent voice, which was emitting moans of pain which I could even hear from across area. These died away some time ago alongside the girl's soul. I just wish that could've been me. It's a wonder really how I've actually had the will to live this long. I was able to chance upon some driftwood on my first day which, with my fishing expertise from back in the district, I was able to use for stabbing and killing fish that had been lurking in the waters. It's surprising actually that after seventeen years I'm still not sick of the taste of fish. Another little taste of home.

With care I let a small sigh escape my lips. I fall back roughly to lie down. Water splashes upon my disturbance, soaking my clothes and hair. I really don't care though. I could just lay here and drown. I could easily put my head under right now and let myself become asphyxiated, dying a slow torturing death, perfect for a tortured soul. This thought crosses my mind a few times. Every time I do though, different names flash into my memory. All those I'd be leaving behind.

Brook is probably not watching; she's probably twiddling her hair or drawing pretty little pictures. Oceava always complained about that. If she is watching I hope she's kicking herself and wishing she'd done more to help us. She's such a fool, she hasn't even been able to get any sponsor gifts to me so far (thanks to her lack of charm and ability to talk intelligently). I'm surviving on fish alone with a rotting piece of driftwood. I know this is pointless but even so some hot food would be useful. But no, we were stuck with the idiot that just got lucky. It's like a joke to think that she's supposed to be a career.

I bet 'sweet' Roxanne is with her too, no doubt yelling at Brook to pay attention or not paying attention herself because she's screaming at an avox for messing up her tea or something idiotic. I truly hate her. That's something I'm not afraid to admit. She's a prime example of someone who hides behind a false image. On stage or television she always acts so sweet, innocent and kind but as soon as she took us to the train she began her strict rules and insults every five minutes. Not to mention she has a stupidly high whiny voice that nearly made my ears bleed. I was partially grateful to get the games after that. I remember during our first couple of days Oceava used to do nearly perfect impressions of her which I'll admit were kinda funny.

Oceava…

I don't know where she is right now but I actually hope to hell she's safe. She wasn't like the other careers. At some points, though she was arrogant, she was neither cold nor false like the other damn members of her alliance of which I truly despise. Every word she uttered had an honest and realistic sense to it. Even nicknaming me 'Shark'. I can see the truth in that. She deserves her nickname of 'Piranha' too. Small but vicious, the youngest of the careers. With an attitude like hers I'm sure she'll live through this. She's the only one that deserves to win now.

' _I forgive you'_

Three words she knew I didn't want to hear but she said them anyway. That took guts. Guts and honesty. I only know one other person who has demonstrated those traits. I can't even bring myself to say his name anymore. I can't tell whether I feel like I don't deserve to or whether I just hate saying it. Yet every moment his cheery voice is ringing through my head, but not through my ears. It's been weeks since I've last heard it. I need it. Badly. It's like a drug. My skin is crawling and dying with the need to be touched. I need him to wake me up. Only he can bring me forth from this nightmare.

"Spritz…"

Oh fine, I dared to say his name. I don't care. I want him here, right now. I don't want to admit that I love him, not just yet. I just only wish he could hear me, just so I could tell him

"Sprit Seegall, you're an idiotic loveable creepy ball of sunshine"

Hell, I did just say that. If he was here he'd crush me with his muscular (but warm) arms and cry 'Aww that's the cutest thing you've ever said to me!' in that irritating, addictive camp voice of his. Weakly, my hand trembles and raises high. No-one helps me up though. They crash down instantly and before I know it I've got hot tears streaming down my face, piercing the salty water my body lays in. I choke, I sob, I scream out in anguish. I must look pathetic so I cover my tear stained face, which is rather pointless considering the scarf that's still covering my eyes, yet I just cannot bring myself to remove it now. I still can't stand for my eyes to be seen. My hands slide down and clasp around my arms, pulling up my knees to my chest so I'm curled into a small ball. I lay like this for God only knows how long, sobbing like a pathetic child. I just want to sleep, but the ache in my heart and his soft, gentle voice just won't let my soul be.

 _Why do you always wallow in self-pity?_

My brother's old words whisper in the back of my head.

 _You and I both know you can be so much stronger than this._

Conch-Lark was always an idiot too. That's why he volunteered. That's why he's dead. Not like 'dear' mother and father did anything to help. No, they completely shunned him after death and focused on me. They weren't idiots. They just weren't human. They would have passed perfectly as being from the capitol. If I died here they'll probably forget about me too. Well, forget about me again.

The tears have stopped flowing now. My cries have silenced, though my chest still badly aches. I try to sustain my focus on my slow, ragged breathing just so I can keep myself sane for a few minutes. Just when I think I am at peace a horrific thought crosses my mind.

What if the other tributes just heard that?

Damn, if they heard that they could be following the sound here this very moment. If so then I probably only have a short time until my inevitable death. The waterworks start up again as the thought of dying so soon reminds me I never would have gotten to say 'sorry'. It's not fair.

But then again, life isn't fair. I breathe out a heavy sigh.

Something swishes itself around my foot. Probably another fish. Good timing really; I was starting to get hungry. To prove that fact my stomach lets out a quiet rumble. With much pain due to exhaustion, I haul myself up into sitting position and grab the piece of driftwood lying beside me. With a sigh a strike down the driftwood with strong might and stab the moving object floating about my feet. However, something still winds its way around in the water. But, I just killed it…didn't I?

I stab at it again, this time harder but yet I still feel movement. A chill runs up my spine as I try desperately to figure out what the hell is moving. I stab again and again but more and more does the movement increase. This is actually starting to scare me now. It reminds me of an old nightmare I had a while back; just something moving.

Closer

Closer

And ever closer.

Until it had grabbed me from behind and everything faded from black to nothing. That night I had woken up screaming, fraught with fear and distress-

Something wet clamps around my leg. With great reluctance I reach down with violently shaking hands to touch whatever has me in its grip.

It's soft, wet…and pulsing.

It moves.

I scream just like I did that night.

In a flash the pulsing object seems to thrash out as something squishy bashes me in the face. Other pulsating things coil themselves like snakes around each of my frozen limbs, holding myself high in the air. From the feel of the strange things ensnaring me I conclude this is some disgusting squid like mutation the game-makers have thrown in to end my pitiful moaning. That and to add an 'entertaining' twist for the capitol crowd. These people really make me sick.

The thing holding me tightens its grip on its strange limbs which shoots a sharp pain through each of my legs and arms until it reaches my chest, causing absolute agony. I want to scream again but my sound is halted due to a lack of breath. Every essence of energy suddenly seemed to flow from my body. Now I just felt like a rag doll. I felt pathetic again. I guess this is my fault for having a death wish, and it seems I was right about my inevitable death, but it just came from a different cause. The squid like mutt slowly snakes another tentacle up my chest and (unsure of whether this was intentional or not) under my shirt until it reached my neck. At this point I felt utterly helpless.

It was strange though. It was like all my dark desires were becoming a reality at once. However, had this been in the past I probably would have embraced and loved this strange, erotic feeling.

But I'm scared. Not just because of the situation, but because my thoughts are clouded, they aren't the simple hates I used to live by.

What's wrong with me?

The tentacle creeps its way around my neck. Any second now it will begin cutting off my oxygen and there's nothing I can do. A few hot tears fall down my cheeks. Slowly I close my eyes tightly shut, accepting and waiting patiently for the death that's about to be thrust upon me.

But then from the deepest depths, hope shines a light.

In my open hand something cold, metallic and sharp nestles itself comfortably. My weak fingers clasp themselves around the hilt and my heart must have stopped because with sudden happy realisation it turned out to be a knife. A sharp, deadly, beautiful knife.

If I could speak to Brook right now I'd take back every single insult to her intelligence I ever thought or muttered. She couldn't have given me anything more fantastic. If I could laugh, I would.

With the little energy I could muster, my left arm ripped itself forcefully from the grip of the slimy tentacle and trust the knife cleanly through, slicing it off. I hear it splash in water below, provoking a mad grin to form on my face. The tentacle ensnaring my neck recoils slightly. This gives me the opportunity the slash at that too, freeing my neck and allowing me to the chance to breathe. The squid thing does not seem to bode well with this, as more tentacles lash at my body. I give out a few grunts and groans as I keep slashing and slicing at each one I feel hit my body. This isn't enough though. I need to silence this beast for good. I cut at one more tentacle which causes me to fall and crash in the shallow waters. I step back and silence myself for a moment. My senses focus on the breathing and the heartbeat of the squid thing. I listen closer. There's a faint beating somewhere lower down towards the ground .Eventually my senses hone in on where I estimate is the heart. My fingers close tighter on the knife's handle. It's now or never. I draw a deep breath.

"COME AND GET IT!"

Then I run. I run with all my strength and speed, hurling myself blindly forward at what I think is the bell of the beast. Shortly my knife finds itself lodged in something squidgy. Thick liquid (blood I assume) drips down the knife, through my fingers, splashing like raindrops. A low growl emanates from the beast. Its body becomes limp. My fingers wind away from the knife for a moment.

Once again, everything goes silent for me. I try to regulate my breathing and understand what I've just done.

I killed it. I killed the beast.

I feel…powerful.

There's laughter. Mad laughter. Then I realise it's me.

I'm laughing. Why?

I'm…alive. And I'm glad.

I'm happy even, and I can be assured that I'm not the only one.

Brook is probably feeling smug about the knife. Roxanne must be bragging to the other escorts about my victory. Spritz must be overjoyed and greatly relieved.

I hear a faint buzzing behind my back. I twist and walk back to the arena wall. My hand runs along the wall until it feels something glassy. There's a camera here; it must have been filming that entire scenario. Damn camera, but this is a good opportunity.

"Take that as a lesson Panem. Never dare to underestimate me"

With that I shatter the camera with my fist. I laugh madly again. That's right, I'm not to be underestimated. There are a few certain people that know that. I wander back over the beast and dislodge my knife from its flesh. Voices ring out in the distance. A grin spreads across my face. My feet begin moving and I start stalking in their direction. The rest of Panem now knows my strength. It's time for them to learn too. I'll prove myself to them, to those closest.

For Brook

For Oceava

For Conch-Lark

And specifically for Spritz, I remove the scarf around my eyes. I know he'd want to see my eyes one last time if I were to die here.

But I also want the world to see these eyes now. I want them see, remember and fear them.

These are the eyes that will shatter the glassy tension.

These are the eyes of a madman.

 _Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of glass_

 _Hardly anything left there for you to see_

 _For you to see_


	5. Magic Ayerzuela, D8 Male, Reaping

**_Originally created for Fourteen, another 24 author collab that was the sequel to Thirteen, on Jakey121's account but was unfortunately deleted due to being unfinished._**

 ** _Magic was very much inspired by my own behaviour, but taken to more of an extreme. He represents the part of me that is a passionate dreamer but is hindered by unfortunate shyness and low self-esteem. I personally feel this was one of best syot based chapters that I've written (it's certainly one of the longest!)._**

 ** _This was originally going to be Spritz Seegall from Fourteens predecessor Thirteen until I came up with the idea of Magic's character._**

* * *

The last thing I remember is pain.

That's not particularly useful; that could refer to any part of my life. My brain racks itself trying to remember the last twenty four hours. Come on; come on, what happened to me?

There was…there was someone. A girl? Probably. Someone dressed in white too. I always remember the colour white. It's a pure colour. Pure like my skin. Pure as peace. Peace, like the peacekeeper-

A crash of thunder roars outside the room, causing me to jump violently. I hate storms.

AGH! A horrific pain throbs in my head and my foot. Wait, why my foot? My teal eyes direct very slowly downwards but then bile rises in my throat. The lower hem of my left trouser leg is stained a sickly red, matching my hair, and is still rather damp. There's a round wound on where my ankle is. Or was. I can't determine the extent of the damage. All I can tell for the time being is that it's going to leave a permanent injury. My head sharply turns back to the rest of the room, not being able to bear such a disgusting sight much longer. I gaze around and try surveying my surroundings. Maybe it will help to recollect some memories. The room is rather dark with no windows, which is rather unnerving. Claustrophobia seems to creep into me. No matter though, I breathe according to my breathing exercises for my normal states of panic. Once I'm fine I survey again. The only other items in the room seem to be simple pieces of furniture. Am I in a house maybe? Myself, I seem to be curled up slightly on some sort of tattered chair. That can't be it though. On closer inspection, there is a door. Even better, to satisfy my curiosity it seems to be open a slight crack. I circle my foot slightly to assess for any pain. Unfortunately a sharp pain not unlike that which comes with an electric shock pierces every vein of mine. This time I cannot help but utter a squeak, groaning and gritting my teeth like I've done with all previous hurt.

"OI! What are you yelling about in 'ere?"

Someone storms through the door which results in me falling out of my chair. That loud, booming voice seems so devil like. They step closer so I wrap my legs closer to my chest and keep my head down.

"OI! I'm talking to you" he roars. I only sink further back. Something roughly grabs my arm and rips it away. I have no shame in admitting the tears flowing from my eyes by this point. Though my vision is blurred I spare a daring glance at my confronter.

It's a peacekeeper.

But why? Why would a peacekeeper be here?

…

No. Not today. It couldn't have been today. It can't be reaping day. It couldn't have been me. No way. Never.

The man grunts and drops my arm which slumps to the floor.

"Pathetic little weasel. Oh hell looks like you got some visitors after all. Who would wanna converse with some weakling like you I'll never know"

He doesn't even give me time let that insult sink in, as three more people shuffle in hurriedly. One wraps their arms tightly around me. Upon instinct I shrink back into an even smaller ball. The warmth of human contact sends (ironically) a cold shiver up my spine. The arms slide away but the person they belong to doesn't leave, so my head keeps its gaze on the floor.

"…Magic? Are you okay?" A soft, gentle voice whispers. That voice could only belong to one person I know. With caution I raise my head and to some sort of relief I see Chantelle, Islera and Shawvelly. Three of my best customers and three girls I could even possibly call my friends. Well, if I weren't constantly trying to get as far away from them as possible. Chantelle, the one who spoke, seems to still be awaiting an answer.

"I-I'm alright" I stutter quietly, disguising hurt. As normal, Shawvelly's face twists into anger. I brace myself for what's to come.

"OF COURSE YOU'RE NOT ALRIGHT! YOU JUST GOT BLOODY REAPED THEN SHOT IN THE BLOODY ANKLE! YOU CALL THAT 'ALRIGHT'? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR INGENIUOS SENSES? GET A GRIP!"

I've curled back into my shell again. Shawvelly's always scary when she shouts. I expect to her yell more but as she finishes her sentence it leads off into a choked sob. That's unusual. Curiosity overwhelms me to look up and to my surprise she's…crying. Islera has her tanned hand on her shoulder, whispering soothing words to calm her. The flow of tears never stops though. I look back to Chantelle. From her facial expression I realise today must have been a day from hell, maybe not just for me. I just can't bear this, all these blanks and hints and pain. I seriously want to know:

"Please…wh-what h-happened t-to me?" I manage to whisper.

She begins her story.

* * *

The furthest back she informs me of was her visit to my tailor shop early this morning. Images of bright colours, velvets, silks and cottons flash by swiftly. She asks me to work my memory back logically, so I stop her before she goes any further with what she recalls. Memories from before these events are suddenly flooding back. Well, not too many. I remember my usual morning routine. Getting up, getting dressed, making breakfast for my folks (bless them, bedridden till their final days) because I don't really eat much, then taking my trip to the grand town hall to take out the tesserae for the three of us. After that…oh that's right I was ambushed again by Lucan and his cronies again along with sweet Calian. I'm not sure if I was hurt this time. I noticed no scars beside the vicious wound on my ankle. Was that the cause? Probably not.

After that…

I remember…getting home. My parents were still upstairs, coughing violently which made me jump at first, so I made a simple lunch for them. There were no thank you but that didn't matter. It was by then I realised it was about to open the shop, so I had gone to the design studio…OH RIGHT THE HORROR! Clothes piled everywhere on the floor as though a hurricane had invited itself in, and even worse somehow one of the dresses had become ripped! Now that I would remember because the unsymmetrical tears just drove me crazy! I think Islera knows best when anything is un-neatly cut. She'll never ask for her dress to be shortened again.

Chantelle is urging me to go back on track. Right, after fixing that dress…um…

"S-sorry, it's all b-blank" I mutter. Damn it, why can't I remember? Was it something traumatising?

"Don't tell me you can't remember that girl?" Shawvelly intervenes sharply. Islera pulls her back slightly.

What girl? Wait, Chantelle mentioned she and the others had visited my shop again this morning.

"It wasn't just the three of us Magic; do you not remember any other customers you had today?"

I strain and struggle to remember and somehow a face comes to mind. And a smile. A haunting smile.

A little more memory fades back. After fixing the dress, which took me a couple of hours at the smallest estimate, a knock had echoed down the hallways. Assuming who it was I had opened the door without a second thought of looking out the polished windows. Then…oh no I remember the shock.

Chantelle, Islera and Shawvelly were still there, smiling as per usual. I think Shawvelly was complaining about me answering the door too slowly and Islera was giving her apologies in her place whilst Chantelle was…looking behind. To the back of the group were more people of whom I didn't recognise.

That's when the shock must have kicked in.

At first, she seemed utterly flawless. Her face seemed almost like a pretty little heart. Such a shape that would make a perfect pattern on a dress. Good thing I remembered that, I could use it for future designs…

Anyway, back on track I remember she had striking dark red hair like my own, beautiful, long, sleek and shiny…

But her eyes. Her eyes scared the life out of me. It's like…like death had looked me straight in the eye and torn out my soul. I think I'd frozen in place, because she gave me odd looks. The muscle-bound guy to her was also giving me the same look. He was pretty cute too…

EEK! Yeesh, I hate it when Chantelle snaps her fingers. Right, what happened next…?

Shawvelly's huffing. That's right! She was huffing earlier too, at the mysterious girl who was giggling rather too loudly, looking like she was nearly squeezed to death under the man's hold around her waist. I know if that were me I'd be choking from a lack of breath by now. She had responded to this by playfully stroking his cheek and flirtatiously asked him to stop, by which he replied with a peck on the cheek. I remember the girls were not so impressed at this display. That didn't seem to matter however to this girl, as in an instance she had forcefully ripped her way through the girl's barrier, right in front of me. It was terrifying. It's like a nightmare. She…she slowly extended her hand, but before I knew it, I felt a crack on the back of my head (which explains why my head is hurting so much now) and then my entire vision went white.

The white again. Why is such a pure colour always haunting me?

By the time the white had faded, the girls (well, Chantelle mostly as the other two were too busy glaring daggers at my mystery customer) were fussing over my bruised head. I really hate people touching me. If I'm right I tore away and ran off further into the shop to address my newest customer. It was one of the most frightening experiences I have ever encountered, I swear! She took her time choosing incredibly slowly, snaking round the room with the elegance of a pure-bred cat. Every so often she would examine one or two dresses, picking them up between her thumb and forefinger before dropping to the ground, complaining that they're probably ridden with my many filthy, disgusting germs that would have tainted each of them

Me? Filthy? NEVER!

If it weren't for my social anxiety I would have scolded her then and there, discarded her from the shop and carefully place the dresses back on their hangers. It kills me that I can never stand up for myself like that. Instead, I had just uttered a quiet squeak and an:

"I,s-sorry"

Of which she just smirked, flicked back her hair and went back to her search. After some more outrageous comments and tedious waiting I think she had finally placed some interest in a dress.

The colour?

I look around the current room. Damn it; there's nothing but a luscious shade of chestnut brown. Perfect for a dress colour but not quite what I need at this point. I finally rest my gaze upon Islera and that gorgeous green dress.

Of course! Green!

Right, it was then she picked out that dark green dress. One of my best works too, if I do say so myself so she does have a keen eye for fashion. It was sleeveless, knee length, fairly plain but rather sexual with an open back, cut out with exquisitely neat edges. Perfection in simplicity. She had strutted over towards it and then turned her head to me. Her smile was very crocodilian.

"Oh, THIS is nice. I'll have this, if you don't mind" she had asked, dripping with sickly sweetness, poisoning my mind until I could speak no longer. Shawvelly's chuckling. Why? Oh, that's right she had yelled "WHORE!" which seemed to actually have no effect on the girl.

She asked for the price.

The fear was immense. I had scrambled for a piece of paper on the counter to scribble the price down on, and with violently shaking hands I had given it to her. When she snatched it I had just fallen back. All the energy felt like it had been drained through my hands to her, because my legs had buckled and left me collapsed on the floor. After that I believe she hadn't uttered another painful word, but had simply placed the money on the counter, eyed the girls one last time then left with the other guy's arm slowly snaking its way back round her waist.

And I still couldn't forget her eyes.

* * *

"And we left after that" Chantelle completes my sentence.

"Because you practically kicked us out!" Shawvelly interrupts.

"Because you were…well…in tears…and…um…we know you like to be left alone...and…" Islera says, pausing every so often as her voice chokes up. She's starting to sound a bit like me, but with slightly less stuttering. It's quite sad really.

"But we're really REALLY sorry! We shouldn't have left you like that!"

Silly girl. I like to be left alone. I don't like people.

I've realised when I'm alone I can do what I please, I can live without pain. I can be as creative and wild as I please without their incessant voices condescending my every action.

I can be free.

"Magic?"

I don't answer. I can't answer.

"Magic…were you, well, okay once we left?"

Come to think of, I wasn't. I'm not about to let on. I can't…I couldn't tell them…I just couldn't…

"Magic"

I move back, away from them and their touch. I don't want their touch; it's beginning to frighten me again.

And why should they know anyway? It's my life, my personal feelings. They couldn't understand. This…this is why I cannot stand people, they never understand, they never help and they will always hurt you in the end. What's not to fear about people?

But then again, to think rationally, is it likely that I'll ever see them again? Will it hurt even more to just tell them? My chances of winning are incredibly slim. I am handicapped from the beginning. Despite all my intelligence, my greatest physical advantage-my speed-has been robbed from me; the best I could do is limp away if I don't get this injury cured in the short amount of time I have. One of those brutes from higher up will take no mercy during the bloodbath, wasting no time with slicing my neck so very slowly, staining the pure whiteness of my skin. It's a horrific thought. There's nothing I can do to prevent this though. My purity? Such a thing is always eliminated in the hunger games. Makes me wish I had gone through with my actions earlier…

"Magic? Please talk to us"

"…F-fine, I-I'll talk" I stutter as per normal.

The girls smile. Scary smiles.

"O-once y-you had left, I was still a-alone on the f-floor" I begin. So far they are following well. Good then.

"Th-that experience h-had been sh-shocking enough f-for me. I don't qu-quite think I've e-ever encountered s-someone so…so…"

"Bitchy?" Interrupts Shawvelly "Besides that Calian that is"

A pang hits my heart. Once again I want to say something but can't. No matter, I must continue with my recount.

"A-anyway I'm n-not sure just h-how l-long I was sat there f-for. S-seconds, minutes, h-hours. A-all that time, w-words and p-protests scrambled m-my brain. Everything I w-wanted to s-say to her, e-everything I sh-should have said. A-all I sh-should have u-used to d-defend my-myself with"

I feel the stuttering increase with the emotion. It's unavoidable but necessary if I am to finish. After all, any dramatic piece is not without the emotion evident within the voice. That is one thing I remember from studying dramatic pieces in class, whilst others just scribbled incessantly on their scripts. It will be nice to get away from all those idiots. Anyway, to continue with the story.

"I had r-realised how p-painful it is to n-never be a-able to d-defend myself. I c-could never b-belong in a w-world where, w-with a-all I have to say, I-I can n-never show anyone nor d-demonstrate it. I w-will a-always b-be overlooked, u-undermined and u-uncared for"

Chantelle flashes a sympathetic (though not empathetic I take notice) look. Shawvelly for some reason tries to give me yet another hug though my instant recoil stops her in her tracks. There are a few tears staining my cheeks again but I don't let her help. I want her to know how hurtful human emotion can be.

"It was th-then I had gotten m-myself up. I-I closed the shop early a-and l-left for home. No, n-not just left-ran. I ran home. Ran f-fast as I could. I-I just w-wanted comfort. Safety. Warmth"

I chuckle weakly.

"I-I still d-didn't receive it th-there. M-mother and f-father were still i-in bed. W-worse still they h-hadn't e-even touched th-their lunch I-I had made e-earlier th-that day. Wh-when I-I came to c-collect it m-my father sc-screamed weakly at m-me f-for lord o-only knows h-how long. M-mother sat there a-and w-watched w-without a s-single c-care or word"

I take a deep, painful breath. This next part will be the hardest.

"That's when I gave up"

I didn't even stutter at all there. Maybe that was the easiest sentence I have ever needed to admit instead. That's quite an achievement for me. How curious indeed.

"What do you mean by 'gave up'? Magic? What-"

Islera starts asking with a serious undertone but somehow she stops mid-sentence. She's looking at my sleeve. Oh dear; she must have noticed. Looks like purity is a harder thing to use to mask over than I had previously believed. I decide it is best to quell their confusion. Again I give up and reach for my sleeve. Hands trembling violently, I never meet their gaze as I pull up the sleeve to reach my elbow. I hear no sounds; maybe they're too shocked to see such a horrific scar on such pure white skin.

"I gave up…o-on life. A-after the f-fiasco with m-my father I-I somehow d-dragged myself t-to the b-bathroom to w-wash away the t-tears. I r-ran cold water and splashed th-that on my f-face…b-but when I l-looked into the m-mirror…I saw o-only a broken m-man. I saw…a gh-ghost, a gh-ghost of the r-real me. I couldn't st-stand it"

I stroke the scar.

"The r-razor was right th-there. It…it was t-too easy….just t-too easy. Of c-course it still h-hurt, the sharp, slow pain…b-but I t-tried to p-pretend it w-wasn't me. I t-tried to pretend…it was a-all of th-them. Th-that girl and her poisonous charm…L-Lucan the b-bully…C-Calian and her rejection…but it was st-still pretty, the red, the lovely r-red, red on wh-white"

I stop there because without warning the peacekeeper re-enters the room with a rather too loud slam of the door. All the girls immediately turn to stare at him, like distracted animals.

"OI! Time's up so you brats get outta, your time's already overrun" he spits at us.

Chantelle and Islera comply with his command easily, flashing me a couple of sad looks as they leave, making me feel more at ease as they move further away. Shawvelly on the other hand stands firm.

"I'm not leaving" she plainly states.

I wish she wasn't so stubborn.

"J-just leave"

She looks shocked. Perfect. The peacekeeper takes advantage of this and grabs her by the arms forcefully. She doesn't know how to react as he drags her out.

But just as they reach the door she says just one thing. Something soft and broken which is so unlike her.

"Please…don't you remember the reaping?"

The reaping…that's the final thing I need to remember.

* * *

Now I'm alone and in peace I can finalise the events of today in my memory.

One thing crosses my mind instantly. It was stormy. Very stormy, which explains the thunder from outside the room earlier. I hate thunder. But there we all were anyway. Every single teenager of district eight was gathered under the blackened and angered clouds gathered in the sky to personify everyone's thoughts. Every peacekeeper and capitol person here however had not seemed to quite notice that. Looking at my current outfit however I must have deliberately this so to suit the rain; it's thick, warm and comfortable yet doesn't ruin in rain and is quite fashionable. Perfect for such an occasion and one of my best works if I do say so myself.

I must stop going off track. I must finish this memory quickly before we are carted away. Myself and whoever my district partner happens to be. Anyway, it was stormy though with all our bad luck we were stood under no roof. Every teen was stood huddled and soaking amongst their sections. Not me however for if I'm right I had chosen a space stood just a little away from the other boys my age though I was fine thanks to my outfit. It didn't help that I stood out like a sore thumb amongst though, which caused them to push me away.

I happen to be the tallest teen in the district, so I tower over everyone else but they don't look up to me in a good way. My hair is a beautiful striking shade of dark red (not ginger), my skin is rather pale and pure, my eyes an unusual shade of teal and I happen to be quite skinny and feminine. Girls think I look cute. Boys think I look completely gay. It's as simple as that really.

After arriving and finding a place…then…then I remember it was all silent. Why? I think it was due to the fact that for some strange reason our escort had not currently arrived. The mayor was stood on stage with an avox in utter confusion, along with the rest of us. Something in my instincts suggested that his entrance was not going to be in normal circumstances.

Then…I remember a faint roar. Some sort of faint roar like a machine. It was a little like when my sowing machine went out of control. Even now I feel that couldn't have been good.

Oh yes. Now I remember well. That's right. The faint mechanical roar had gotten louder…louder…until a massive crash had gotten us all to sharply turn towards the gate and to everyone's surprise, except the avox, a black clad frightening person stormed in on what looked like a motorcycle. He had torn straight through the crowd of us, knocking a couple of young kids to the side and he rode up towards the stage and halted just inches in front of the mayor's feet.

To say everyone was in shock and awe by that point is an understatement. The man had removed the skull and cross-bone helmet to reveal his full image. Dear god he was terrifying; his scary face still haunts the back of my mind. He was tall and I mean extremely tall, much like myself really so I felt slightly less conspicuous. He had jet black hair, spiked in such a way it looked like you could impale yourself on it. A glorious golden gleam lined his skin; it was such a shade I desired to achieve for a dress colour one day. I remember thinking at the time if I made it out of there alive I could try to achieve that colour one day. Too late for that now. Anyway, his last defining feature was the massive skull tattoo adorned on his left cheek. A grim reminder of death.

But…trying to remember from there is becoming more difficult. My brain is still trying too hard. Maybe I'll just lie down and close my eyes for a moment; try to get some peace and let the memory play by itself.

My eyelids close shut rather quickly as I lay down to rest once again. As everything fades into sleep, the memory plays out clearly in my mind.

* * *

 _The leather clad man, who has now been identified by our mayor as 'Nile Roche' stomps towards the mike, grabbing it tightly within his golden fists and exclaims_

" _HELLOO DISTRICT EIGHT!"_

 _Hi voice echoes throughout the area. He's met with silence and faces of un-appreciation._

" _WHO'S READY FOR THIS YEAR'S GAMES!?" He exclaims obnoxiously again, trying to rally some sort of reaction from the awaiting crowd. He's met with silence again. He doesn't seem too impressed. He furrows her brow with annoyance and huffs._

" _Alright, alright let's get on with it" he sighs, slamming the microphone back on the stand and pulls out a partially torn piece of paper. It turns out to be the treaty, which he reads with little care. No-one seems interested as he reads it out. I juts block my ears and pretend not to hear him. However, that doesn't seem to help as once he finishes the reading of the treaty he begins to yell again._

 _"NOW FOR AN MEGA HARDCORE BLOODY VIDEO ALL THE WAY FROM BACK HOME!"_

 _This is always my least favourite part after the actual reapings. Everyone turns their faces towards the large screen to the left of Nile. Instantly, it begins explaining the games, with some horrific past images of which I turn away. But then when I thought that was the worst of it…then they start playing images from last year's games. They show many deaths, those horrific mutts and the final moments of last year's winner-that poor Neon girl from district 3; she was only young. I just pray I don't end up like her. The whole time it plays I feel like vomiting; such images are never good for my composure. Nile however is smiling with sickening glee._

 _When the video ends, there is tense silence. Nile says nothing at first but instead just stamps over towards the girl's reaping bowl. His golden hand slams into the bowl and quickly fishes out a small piece of paper. It's only them he starts to yell again (I swear if I listen to him any longer I will go deaf)._

 _"AND FOR DISTRICT EIGHT'S SUPER HARDCORE FEMALE TRIBUTE, WE HAVE DAKOTA PHILLIPS!"_

 _Phillips…why does that sound so familiar? Like everyone else I glance around to try and figure out who this girl is. There is a slight gasp over in the older girl's section and everyone disperses around on girl. From where I'm standing she seems to have fainted. Nile seems to be tapping his foot impatiently as he waits, so the peacekeepers gather around her and pick her up from the ground. As she is dragged towards the stage, I try to take a glance at her first but I don't until she reaches the stage. As she's dragged many girls give her piercing, hating glances though many of the boys are whistling and shouting cat calls at her. Shawvelly glances over at me, looking like she's sniggering as if to say 'can't believe it was that bitch'. I chuckle a little too which earns a rare warm smile from her. Once Dakota is placed on the stage besides Nile he shifts an inch away from her, giving her a disdainful look (maybe fainting isn't 'hardcore' enough for him). Her eyes then slowly seem to open._

 _Oh my…it's her. It's that girl from my shop. I hate to sound rather vicious in my own mind but I feel no remorse for her. But Phillips?_

 _Wait…now way she can't be…she can't be related to her…_

 _It doesn't matter anyway. I get no more time to dwell upon this as Nile stamps over towards the boy's reaping bowl. This is the ultimate tension for myself and all the other's my age. If we make it through this, we live._

 _His hand fishes out a name._

 _He gets ready to speak._

 _My heart stops._

 _"As for our SUPER (with much emphasis on the 'super') hardcore boy tribute, we have Magic Ayerzuela!"_

…

 _No. It can't be._

 _I-_

 _No-_

 _Why me? I was nearly there! So very nearly there! But on day that has played out like this who am I to be surprised-fate seems to move in mysterious ways. Though it makes me wish I had continued with my earlier self-harm actions; at least then I could die with my purity intact._

 _The peacekeepers are getting closer and closer. Soon they'll encircle me and I won't be able to escape. But…I don't want to pay this price. I don't want to be district eight's hero. Even though running would be useless and it is surrender is the stronger feeling I just cannot accept that. No, surrender cannot be stronger._

 _So I make my decision._

 _I run._

 _Everyone's a little surprised, even Nile, but I run faster and further than I ever had. The peacekeepers are barely keeping up with me and the gate draws closer in sight. If I keep this up i can escape. I can make it._

 _I can live._

 _I'm nearly there, just a hand away. My fingers reach out, extend and so very nearly touch the smooth metal-_

 _I fall to the ground clutching at my ankle. A pain rushes through every single vein in my body. I don't even scream but I groan and hiss loudly, tears flowing like waterfalls from my ears. Through the blurred vision I can see a bullet wound in my ankle._

 _They've shot me. But surely they cannot kill their tributes? No, wait that's why they shot my ankle. It's just enough to subdue me. All I see is white for a while though my vision is restored soon enough as my find myself on stage, on the opposite side on Nile from Dakota. Our escort looks extremely unimpressed by the both of us but yet he seems to keep up his loud but confident demeanour._

 _"THERE WE ARE! TWO HARDCORE TRIBUTES THAT WILL REPRESENT DISTRICT EIGHT THIS YEAR! DAKOTA AND MAGIC!"_

 _He takes a bow then yells "NOW SHOVE OFF!"_

 _Everyone scarpers off very quickly like rats. Nile then mutters something along the lines of 'get the inside quickly' before striding into the building himself. I'm still unable to move but the peacekeepers drag me along. I only look at them. Their pure white._

 _Maybe surrender is just stronger. Just before my vision turns white again, I look back at the crowd. Shawvelly is still standing there._

 _Even worse, she's crying._

 _I wonder why I'm still running when I know there's no escaping_

 _Come undone, surrender is stronger,_

 _I don't need to be the hero tonight._

 _We all want love, we all want honour_

 _Nobody wants to pay the asking price._

 _~Undone by FFH~_


	6. Magic Ayerzuela, D8 Male, Capitol

_**Originally written for and uploaded on Fourteen, another 24 author collab that was the sequel to Thirteen, on Jakey121's account but was unfortunately deleted due to being unfinished.**_

 _ **The song for this chapter is one of the inspirations for Magic's character development into a more confident person. This chapter was quite a challenge to write so I was also writing about several other tributes not of my own creation. If Magic had not died in the bloodbath, which was sad although rather fitting to his character, I would have had him be a rather miraculous winner, showing some new-found determination and confidence, as well as some mercy for Dakota Phillips.**_

* * *

' _It doesn't solve a thing to dress it in a pretty gown'_

Two years ago I made a perfect dress.

The colour had been my favourite-a luscious deep shade of blue. The flowing bottom hem had reached just below the knees, so as to give to wearer modesty but to allow some liberty for the legs, yet was still mildly alluring. The hem of the neck was lined with the finest silver gems I could scrape up in our miserable district. There were sleeves, though they were thin enough that they barely hung on the shoulders but kept it all in place. The pattern was simplistic yet pure. The material, a fine silk that left behind the softest touch.

Shawvelly had been the first one the model it for me. I had chosen her specifically because of her big, bright blue eyes that accented the dress. Both she and the dress were so beautiful. That dress had somewhat steeled both my love of fashion and my confidence. Back then I only used to stutter a little.

Look at me now.

I'm having to lean against the wall just keep my frail body stood up for so long. Every few minutes or so I blank for a few seconds and forget where I am, but then I'm reminded by the swift, swishing fabrics that flow towards the stage. Of course, I then remember, I'm at the interviews. Chariots and training are all done and dusted, and dear Lord were they a disaster! Having to bare my chest and cover myself with nothing more than a silk pair of shorts and a pair of overly large angel wings which knocked at my head at every little bump. Embarrassing to say the least (considering I'm not the most muscled boy you could meet). I must have tripped over at least three times during training as well, which did not help my reputation.

No wait, I tripped four times. Some career tripped me up the fourth. To them I must be nothing more than dead meat.

Ugh, dead meat. I'm so hungry…I've never been hungrier, but yet I'm too sick to eat. Not that I can eat at a time like this. Not that I have been able to eat much here anyway; Dakota gets all the good food.

Damn bitch…

Oh dear, I hope I didn't say that out loud! Dakota's in front of me, checking out her reflection in the shiny spots in the wall. I swear she's like a narcissistic magpie. If I could I'd kick her. Only if I could, but my legs are locked in place. Why the hell is everyone so calm about this? No-one seems to care that it's time to show our faces off to the people.

The people…no wonder I've been fearing this moment. My biggest fear has always been people. To have every single eye on you, every single one of them judging me. Going through this kind of thing in normal life, maybe I've just been paranoid, but here it's for real. Every single second spent in the capitol I've had eyes locked on my movements.

Hmm, well maybe not all. After all I'm hardly the most interesting person. Frail body, can barely say a word and a wounded ankle. Well, not so much wounded as it was. I twirl my foot for a second. The pain has been severely reduced and running is no longer an impossible task (whether I can reach the high speeds I used to is still questionable). I haven't even made any allies, but I really don't help myself in that area. I did get an offer from the nice pair from nine at lunch, but I freaked out and ducked under the table. Not my best moment but it's not one of my worst either strangely enough.

"That was Quintus everybody!"

Huh? Oh, the career lot must be done then. Quintus is sauntering so elegantly by, sneering at a few of the others as he does so. He must have racked up enough of a threat against them already but he still insists on being scary. He must have no cares in the world, which makes me wonder just how much of their soul those trainers drive out back home. Soulless monsters. I mustn't make eye contact; he won't get to me.

Just look down, keep looking.

Footsteps are shuffling closer. Soft ones.

Keep looking down.

Before I know it I'm met with two bright orbs of blue and instantly I recoil and slam into the wall. He just laughs and continues on his way. The rest of the tributes can't even focus on the threat of Quintus because their laughter is all directed towards me! Most are laughing, and from a distance I think I hear the careers laughing too from back somewhere (or maybe it's all in my mind, who knows? I am paranoid after all). Nasty, condescending laughter. They're all just glad to have someone else that's suffering, and right now I'm the one suffering the worst. I can't even leave to get away from this; a peacekeeper will just drag me back to my place in line. For some stupid reason I look to Dakota to try and gain some sympathy. After all, she is my district partner so she and I must have developed some sort of bond by now, right?

Wrong. As expected the bitch is laughing too, in that high pitched irritating way she did when we first met. No surprises there, not now that she's in league with him, and the rest of them. Right now I just want to crawl into a deep dark hole and die. It's useless. I've done nothing to prove myself; the best I've done is paint a big fat target on my head for everyone else to see. Come the countdown I'll probably fall off my pedestal first and be blown to pieces. They'll probably laugh then too.

 _Oh look! Magic the Klutz tripped up again!_

 _Aww damn it, he was my kill!_

 _Who cares, ignore him and focus of the more important targets._

Sigh, story of my life.

"You saw her light up the chariots, now she'll light up the stage-it's the radiant Rima Vertes!"

Everyone's focus is diverted back to the interviews again. Good, I need some time to recollect myself. Who am I kidding, I'll never return to a normal state of calmness after this experience. I'll die first.

Rima seems to have made her way on stage quickly enough. Mostly likely she wants to get this over and done with quickly. She looks so gorgeous, adorned with a spaghetti strapped red dress falling to her knees, and elaborate pinned up hairstyle with only little makeup that truly let's her 'radiance' shine through. It's so unlike the cold, withdrawn girl that gave me nasty looks during training. She takes time to sit herself down, hands on her knees and a smile spread across her dainty face. A few of the women 'aww' and 'sigh'.

"So Rima, you're certainly looking perky today" Jokle announces.

"Well, I'm just loving my pretty new dress!" she replies, giggles following up. Cue the 'awws' and 'sighs' again.

"Well, you look pretty yourself, doesn't she folks?"

Cheers ensue immediately. Rima smiles sweetly and giggles.

"Aww you're too kind"

"Alright then, so how has your time been in the capitol?" he asks her softly.

"Oh it's been wonderful! My room is so beautifully decorated, the meals are delicious and the people here have been so kind!" she gushes out almost immediately. But just for a second there, I see a small glint in her eyes. A small glint that looks as though she doesn't believe her own words.

"And how about outside of your room?"

She falters for a bit but the smile returns. Why is she trying so hard?

"That's been okay, but…"

Jokle shifts a little closer and puts on an empathetic (or sympathetic?) face.

"But…?"

"I guess…I'm a little sad over my score" Rima mutters, shuffling her feet with eyes directed at the floor.

And of course. She's playing up the sympathy act. For someone young like her that's probably a smart way to go about it.

"Ah yes, a five" Jokle sighs "well, you listen to me Rima. That score does not matter, remember that you're strong and I'm sure you'll be fine, you can do this!

There's that little glint again. This time it's not disbelieving; quite the opposite actually.

"And if she has trouble I'm we can all help her out, can't we folks!"

Screams of 'yes' echo down to the back of the hall and back. That's not comforting. Not at all. Just how many people are there?

And again the buzzer rings, to which Rima stands up and delicately saunters her way back.

There's barely a break before Jokle stands back up again and announces:

"Please welcome ladies and gentleman the charming Ryan Jenkins!"

Ryan appears very suddenly on stage in a flash of shining silver, so quickly even that Jokle is a little startled. The audience however are cheering the whole time. He sits down on the chair without a word leg crossed and hands placed together on his knee, back straight and poised. After a second Jokle proceeds to do the same.

"What an exquisite outfit you've got on there, matches that beautifully crafted on your wrist"

Ryan warmly smiles at Jokle, fiddling with the bracelet a little.

"Why yes, I believe that's the look my stylist was aiming for, which I do like myself"

Ryan's right, it is a beautiful suit.

"Aside from the kind treatment from your stylist, how have everyone treated you?"

"Perfectly fine"

"Even the training staff?"

"Most helpful?"

"Really? Have they helped you develop a working strategy yet"

Ryan does not seem to answer straight away. Clever move. A smirk begins to form on his face and he taps his nose.

"Well, I may have tricks, I may have plans. Maybe you'll just need to wait and see" he shoots back at Jokle, but still with the utmost respect. I'm beginning to admire his confidence.

"Alright then, so how about your normal life? You've enjoyed the capitol lifestyle but how about back home? Anyone you miss?" He utters with a content face. Ryan's does not seem to be quite so content however. This question seems to have shocked him somehow. He is definitely hiding something. Only question is will he keep it hidden? There are a few audience members visible in the front seats whose faces have twisted to (false?) concern. A few seconds pass but he finally comes back with an answer.

"Oh, I'm sorry! That's all fine but I was just intrigued by who did your hair? It truly suits you"

Nice move Ryan. Really. There's no need to tell these uncaring people your troubles anyway. There's no need to show your weaknesses. Keep the strength and respect you still have.

Jokle is looking very flattered but before he can sputter an answer the buzzer rings back through the hallway.

"Well, it's a shame that was cut short but I hope you all enjoyed seeing district five's Ryan Jenkins!"

Once Ryan leaves the loud cheers and the stage Jokle soon begins to announce the next tribute.

"Now for district six's little sweetheart, Greylyn Conway!"

"W-wow!"

I don't mean to speak but she looks so adorable! Not just adorable but….innocent. At least I feel that's what her stylist must have been aiming for because the young Greylyn has been clothed in a white lace dress and light makeup. A green ribbon holds the hair out of her eyes and matches her green pumps. Like with Rima many of the audience members 'aww' over her sheer cuteness. The dress wraps perfectly around her legs as she sits down. Jokle shakes her hands and she sits back, pauses, and then arches her back up slightly so her posture is perfect. She actually makes it look comfortable.

"Wow, it's so exciting to have the mayor's daughter with us"

She sits up straight before answering.

"Well, I feel excited to be here with you Jokle" she responds so politely, but that still doesn't mask the childlike tone of her voice. How sad.

"How have the people here been treating you? Much like home? Maybe better or even worse?" Jokle bombards at Greylyn.

"Well, it's difficult to say, how do the people here usually treat you?" she responds. Jokle is a little stunned but waves it of easily.

"Well, you can imagine very well. After all I have a high ranking job, much like your father"

There's a pause where Jokle is obviously waiting to see if Greylyn has a response. Seeing that she doesn't he coughs and continues.

"How are you mother and father? Still living the good life back in district six?"

Her fingers twitch. She's slightly nervous, yet no-one else notices.

"Very nice, you should visit sometime. Would you like that?"

A strange question and slightly off topic. Maybe that's what she is aiming for. Jokle laughs a little but grins.

"Tell you what dear, if you can soldier on and win the games I promise I will visit as a congratulations gift"

She nods and smiles.

"Do you think you can win?" He asks, shifting closer. That's a little awkward but she doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. If that were me I'd be freaking out intensely by now. Just looking at him makes my legs quiver. I can't believe a twelve year old is taking this more calmly than I am.

"Well, what do you think?" she asks, but not rudely. Jokle grins widely at her response.

"I think you'll be just fine"

And there rings the buzzer once again. Greylyn is lifted out of her seat by Jokle's hand, hair bobbing and dress swishing.

"District six's Greylyn everybody!"

She gives a little courtesy to the crowd which earns a few more cheer and whistles. As she walks by me all I can focus on is her pure white dress. My favourite colour. It's so calming. Makes me forget about my stupid clumsy feet.

"Can he rise from the ashes? Please welcome Phoenix Witter!"

Jokle's obnoxiously loud voice breaks me back out of my trance. Once I come to I see Phoenix awkwardly stumbling on stage, fiddling with the bow tie and brushing off any dust on his lush burgundy suit. He flops down into the chair and Jokle joins him. He flashes a smile to try and relax him, but Phoenix still seems rather uncomfortable. He's such a contrast to his district partner.

"H-hi" he mutters, obviously trying to make conversation. His eyes are firmly directed upwards, flicking back between Jokle and the crowd. Another blatant attempt, but this time to hide weakness. I wonder if the careers have picked up on this? I would not be surprised.

"You seem a little tense Phoenix, has anything during your time here been bothering you"

His head snaps back to Jokle.

"No, nothing. I'm just…anticipating my moves for the arena, my plan and all that…yeah" he spills out rather rapidly, his arms a bit jerky whilst he does so. Poor boy; I can feel his pain.

"Your moves? Do you have something interesting planned then?" Jokle says, obviously trying to hide a few chuckles as he does so. It seems to me that he's not taking Phoenix seriously. It seems some of the audience feel the same way, smiles twitching badly.

Phoenix clenches his fists and holds them close to his chest.

"Yes! Great moves! Powerful moves! The other tributes won't know what's hit them!"

I'm not sure he knows the meaning of 'less is more'. He's trying far too hard to be serious and strong but in all honestly he just looks silly. At least the other tributes are laughing at him now and not me.

"Even those oh so great tributes like Cassiterite and Quintus won't be able to stop me!"

Huge mistake. Maybe he should be worrying about dying first and not me. Jokle's still laughing his head off but he wipes away the tears so he can continue.

"Well at least you seem confident enough; I guess that's a good sign!"

"Y-yeah!" Phoenix stutters, head shaking nervously.

"I bet your family is so proud of you right now!"

Phoenix nearly jumps out of his seat at this comment. Clearly not a topic he wishes to discuss because his only a response is a nod of the head before the buzzer rings. He immediately shoots out of his seat and awkwardly wanders back off stage.

"Um, Phoenix everyone!"

As he paces past the rest of us I almost feel sorry for him. But then again, he was also laughing at me earlier so he's just another spiteful person that shouldn't have pity taken on them.

"Now for the for district seven's daring little Kilea Fairbane"

She's…gorgeous. She's dressed entirely in green (a reflection of the nature that adorns district seven? If so then very clever). Her ball gown dress is a pale shade of green with matching but sparkling emerald heels. Peridot adorns her ears and the curve of her neck. Just so these details don't go to waste, her hair is piled neatly atop her head, held in place with an encrusted headband. It's a breath-taking piece. Almost like that dress I sold to…wait I sold it to Dakota!? It would've looked so much better on Kilea.

She sits down so carefully on the chair so as not to crease the dress. Her hands are resting on one another though they constantly keep moving and twiddling. Somehow I can already imagine what Jokle is going to say to her first.

' _So, a volunteer from district seven? How unusual'_

"So, a volunteer from district seven? How unusual"

And thus I am a mindreader. Sigh, if only.

Kilea keeps a sweet face, but isn't letting anything on with it.

"So do tell Kilea, what are your reasons for bravely volunteering?"

Much of the audience are literally on the edge of their seats. She keeps up her calm face but keeps twiddling her fingers, which to me seems like a nervous habit.

"Since you asked nicely I will explain. My friends and I back home do love to have a bit of fun. Truth and Dare is one of our favourite games to play. It was Johnny's turn and well…his dare was to volunteer"

What a stupid thing to do! This is exactly the reason not to trust other people. Why would you trust someone who would suggest sending you away to your death? Jokle does not seem to feel the same way because he's riling the crowds into masses of cheers.

"Isn't that incredible folks? A true act of bravery and strength I'd say!"

She simply blushes at his comment and smiles.

"Oh thank you"

"I must ask you though, this Johnny boy-did you happen to go through with his dare because you like him?" Jokle asks of her coyly. She immediately blushes and shakes her head, all the while her hands still twiddling.

"Aww how cute. So Kilea, aside from this extraordinary determination do you feel you now have the skills you need to win these games!"

"Of course I do! I don't want to underestimated by anyone. Don't think I didn't volunteer without a second thought!"

The cheers of the crowd continue on until the buzzer rings. Kilea gets up quickly but flashes a sweet smile before making her way back, not giving Jokle a chance to say anymore. For once I want to talk. I want to compliment her in that dress. The clickety clack of her heels are coming down the hallway. If I don't speak now she'll be gone.

"Y-you're d-d-dress is b-beautiful"

The clacking stops. Right next to me. I don't look her in the eyes but a soft voice answers.

"Thank you um…Magic is it?"

I nod, still not looking up to her.

"Well, I love your suit too" is all I hear. No sarcasm. Just honesty laced her voice. Could it be…a light in this dark place?

Sadly by the time I look up she's already gone and Jokle has begun announcing the next tribute.

"Now please welcome on stage district seven's Tyrion Pond!"

Here's a little pick-me-up for now I guess. He may be dressed up elegantly-A black tuxedo with violet stripes, black bow tie, squeaky clean black shoes and glossed black hair-but nothing hides the Tyrion that I've seen. He's a little rough around the edges, and rather muscled but with his long dark hair, pale skin and handsome faces he's almost irresistible to both girls and guys. If I didn't have this stupid stutter I'd have talked to him a long time ago; I wouldn't have minded an ally like him. Or his partner Kilea for that matter. Tyrion takes his place but he definitely doesn't look comfortable. For one his feet are shifting a lot, much like Kilea shifted her hands and he keeps blinking as well. I understand exactly how he feels.

Jokle opens his mouth to speak but somehow Tyrion beats him to it.

"N-nice weatha, uh weather you have here. Back home i-it usually just rains, here it snows-indoors! What's up with that?" he manages to sputter. I can't even look it's that awkward. It sounds like that was his failed attempt at a joke. Three or four of the of the audience members chuckle weakly though I think it's more out of pity than humour. Jokle thankfully breaks the awkward silence for all of us (thankfully).

"So it rains a lot back home then? It must be wonderful to get away from that for a while"

"Y-yeah, at least it's warm and sunny here, less trees to chop" A blush creeps up his cheeks, I'd say out of embarrassment. I should know.

"So you were a lumberjack then? Does it make for a good living?"

"Well, sort of. It gets you by day after day. It's actually kind of nice not to have to work actually" Tyrion says, his tone more relaxed than it was. His eyes are still avoiding the lights and his feet are continuing to shuffle.

"Sounds great enough, doesn't beat interviewing though!" Jokle comments arrogantly.

"Heh, maybe I should get that job, I might learn to be funny then"

A few more people actually laugh this time. Jokle too.

"No, I think physical labour suits you better. After all look at those muscles!" Jokle announces, grabbing Tyrion's arm and yanking it into the air. He takes a hint and stands up, then flexes them to the crowd. There's a massive roar of cheers and whistles from ladies (they're not the only ones getting a good view though). Tyrion shortly sits back down and relaxes into the chair.

"With muscles like that you must attract the ladies back home! Tell me do you have anyone back home?"

The calm look on his faces suddenly fades. Tyrion goes back to shifting his feet.

"Well, there's no girl but there is one person back at home" He mumbles. He's not suggesting what I think he's suggesting…

"Oh, who?"

"Just somebody"

The timing is well placed as the buzzer rings.

"Well then, never mind that. Let us bid farewell to Tyrion!"

He looks to the ground as he leaves. I wish I could comfort him. I wish I could talk to him like Kilea, but I've never been able to talk to boys as easily as girls. So I just let him slink by sadly.

OUCH!

Dakota just kicked me in the ankle!

What the freaking hell!?

"Watch how a professional does it, bitch" she shoots at me. She's calling me a bitch?

"You all know her sister but now she takes the spotlight, please welcome Dakota Phillips!"

She takes a deep breath and relxes her shoulder before elegantly gliding on stage slowly, letting her red high heels tap in time. I hate her with a passion but she is nearly beautiful. Our stylist went all out on her. I though Kilea's outfit was gorgeous but this tops it. Her dress definitely goes with the 'sexy' them. It's backless and sleeveless and tight fitting which really compliments her ample figure. It's dark red but somewhat translucent, and I know I'm not the only male that's got their eyes on her right now. My only criticism is that her face is absolutely coated in makeup. For once I'd like to see her face. Her hair is in a neat tied up bun but with a rogue little hair fallen out of place. It's funny; I swear our stylist was far too obsessed with neat hair. Was the rogue hair her own choice?

Jokle stand up and extends his hand to help her to her seat. She happily seems to take it and giggles.

"Oh you boys!"

"Just being a gentleman, ma'am" He says, bowing in her presence. It's sickening to watch.

"My my Dakota, your dress is just lovely! Your stylist must have known exactly what to do with you".

Pervert.

"Well, I guess you could say I helped a little?" she remarks almost coyly, winking at the interviewer. Is there anything she won't do?

"Did you ever have any outfits this nice back in district eight?"

"Well, there was this one dress, it was green with an open back like this one" she comments, her delicate finger resting on her chin in though.

That was my dress.

"But I can't remember where I got it!" she exclaims with a high pitched squeal.

I feel like someone I;ve just fallen off my pedestal. I'm not going to blow up am I?

Looking around, no. Nope. I'm still here.

"Well, what a shame. Asides from your beauty let's discuss your other talents. A six is an interesting score, how did you manage it?" Dakota giggles and (slowly) crosses her leg over the other.

"Well, I have my 'ways'" she says with another wink.

"I imagine so" Jokle remarks, his eyes trailing over to her. Honestly…

"I imagine you mustn't be short of allies"

"Who wouldn't want to ally with me?" Dakota exclaims sweetly, putting her finger to her lips innocently. The crowd engages in cheers once again.

"A beautiful girl like you, did you have anyone back home?"

I saw that. Her eyes flicked. That's her weak point; I've heard she slept around back home so any talk of 'real love' probably hammers his confidence.

But then she regains her smirk.

"Well, I'll leave that thought with you"

Jokle looks a little flushed. The buzzer plays out again.

"What a shame folks, but for now we'll have to say goodbye to the remarkable beauty that is Dakota Phillips!"

And that's it. Flawless.

Even the way she glides seamlessly by is enchanting. It'll be a miracle if anyone can surpass her perfect acting, let alone myself. But it looks like I'll have to try. This is my very last chance to make a good name for myself lest I end up a splat of blood on the pedestal.

I've got to try.

Alright deep breaths, slowly. My chest is rising and falling gently enough. Good, I'm in a calm state. Jokle is standing up. The peacekeepers are at the ready, and the audience are on the edge of their seats.

"Now welcome on stage district eight's own fashion fanatic, Magic Ayerzuela!"

.

..

…

Everyone's staring at me again. I'm not moving. I refuse to budge. I can hear Jokle coughing on stage and announcing again:

"Um, district eight's very own Magic!"

But it's no more than an echo. There's too noise drowning it all out. I can't do this, I just can't.

Something roughly breaks my blank state as a pain grips my arm and shoves me forward. I'm about the scream, I try to pull back but in a flash the scenery changes to a lush, elegant setting. Two golden velvet chairs are just slightly across from me; one of them is occupied. It seems very gorgeous, however as I turn my head to my side it seems I've met my worst nightmare.

Eyes. So many eyes. They're all looking straight at me. Straight at my soul.

So many…hundreds, thousands, millions with the cameras.

Oh god. Please oh please just get me away from here. Anywhere, just kill me now. I can't handle this, I just can't. My breathing is picking up rapidly. I'll hyperventilate if I don't stop. Please let me be…

"Aww, isn't that cute folks? He's a bit shy"

The massive audience start awing over me and cheering. I hate them all but…they find me cute. Cute…cute tributes sometimes get sponsors.

Jokle is gesturing me to come over. That's right, my interview. Guess I know what angle I'll be playing up. I've got to be brave now. I've got to calm down and do this. Right, just a few steps, that's all it takes. Lord, my knees are buckling so badly but slowly I get there and collapse onto the soft couch. Beside me Jokle shifts so he's facing me. I'm still looking at my feet however; they're the only things in the world right now that aren't scary. Though they should be, after all they're the ones that could cause me to trip up. Sigh, I'd better look at him.

Big mistake. His hair is green! Bright green! And his skin, so pale like a ghost! Eyes a weird shade of purple and markings that are almost clown like! Ugh, and not to mention HIS HIDEOUS FASHION SENSE! Ruffles and lace! Oh I can't handle this…

"So Magic, how are you finding the capitol?"

"Y-you're hair i-is h-hideous"

Trip. Splat. Bang. Dead.

I've really done it now; I've just insulted the interviewer! Who wants to sponsor a rude boy like that! I'd be surprised if Jokle even wants to continue.

…Well that's if he'd stop laughing.

Laughing? Why?

"Oh Magic, I should have expected that from you!"

I'm baffled. I truly am. All I can manage is a

"W-wha?"

He grins.

"I've been talking to your stylist, he's been telling me about you and your fashion criticisms. So you're quite the little fashionista then?"

He's really working with me here. He's actually talking about one of the few things I'm comfortable with.

"H-huh? Oh, y-yes, I'm a f-fashion d-d-designer m-myself. I-I sell c-clothes b-b-back home"

I know I'm still stuttering but I'm trying my hardest now to be as lucid as possible. It's strange; somehow I feel the stuttering is just from habit now.

"Interesting, did you make a lot of money out of it?"

"Y-yes, I e-even sold one t-t-to Dakota"

She's going to kill me for that one.

"a-after all I had f-family and f-friends to care for"

He smiles warmly at me but then puts on some sort of sympathetic face. He moves a tad closer. What is he aiming at here?

"You must worried about them right now, without you running your little business back home"

I never thought about that. I thought about Shawvelly crying. I thought about my ill parents briefly. I thought about Islera's innocence and Chantelle's good mannered nature.

I never thought about if they'd suffer. If I'm not there what will happen? Before I never considered myself to the utmost importance. That's why I have these scars. Each one a mark of pain inflicted by others. Was I really that important to them?

If I'm not there, who will care for my parents? I'm their only child and the only one that brings back food. If I'm not there will they die?

And what about the girls. Islera has a huge family yet she's never known anyone that's been reaped (and killed). She's too innocent; if I die will she be bereaved of that? Broken down forever?

Same with Chantelle. Maybe not quite the same, as she lost her brother only 3 years ago, but after having rebuilt herself back up from that will she just lose it all completely?

Shawvelly…I've been pondering her much these past few days. The tears…she was the only one who cried. She cared much more than I thought. Just maybe…did she love me? Strong Shaw with the soul of steel? Shaw with the big blue eyes, long hair, perfectly built body…

Oh god I think I'm in love.

"Magic?"

ACK! Everything flashes back to reality. Oh right, Jokle is awaiting an answer.

Will they be okay?

"Th-they won't h-have t-to suffer f-f-for long"

He looks intrigued. Wonderful.

"And why is that?"

"B-because I'm going to win!"

The cheers are like music to my ears. All of them, they love me. Jokle is just roaring them on too. I didn't even mean to say that; it just slipped out. What a brilliant mistake. Screw dying in the bloodbath; death will not claim me just yet.

Sigh, it's all amazing but it's still not something I can easily handle so I just shrink back into the comfortable chair and look down, my cheeks burning brightly. After a couple of minutes Jokle quietens them down with a simple flourish of his hand and turns back to me. I snap my head up but it must be evident I'm still blushing.

"Such confidence! My my, you have really changed from the boy I watched in the reaping, do you have any last words before we unfortunately have to let you go?"

It's true. I have changed.

For the better.

"Y-yes, t-to the tributes"

"Oh, a challenge?"

I smile sweetly and direct my face so my eyes are locked on the cameras.

"Y-yes, i-if they want me, th-they'll have to c-catch me first!"

Another chorus of cheers. A buzzer rings over the incessant noise, which I take as my cue to stand.

"Once again folks, the fighting fashionista-Magic Ayerzuela"

Hmm, I quite like that title. I need no cue to tell me it's time to leave the stage, almost running as I do so. The elegance fades back to the clean white walls of the hallway. The once laughing faces of my peers no longer see me as a bloodbath (I hope, at least they don't look as amused). Tabitha and Nile are clapping. Clapping!

"That was totally hardcore man!" Nile yells (far too loudly) in my ear, wrapping an arm round my shoulder "Come on, we're gonna celebrate-Tabs! Get the drinks!"

I'm not really a fan of alcohol but I guess today will be an exception.

Though in fairness, this whole day has been exceptional.

' _It's whatever makes you see, makes you believe_

 _And forget about the premonition you need to conceive'_

 _~Illusion And Dream by Poets Of The Fall~_


	7. Kaius Wistful, D5 Male, Reaping

**_Originally intended for Death Numbs the Pain: The 124th Hunger Games collab but was never published. Though finished his district partner was changed afterwards so the reapings would have been a little different._**

 ** _Kaius was strongly inspired by the song in this chapter, which I discovered in a tribute video to a character with PTSD and a dual personality. It's mostly likely that his schizophrenia would have led to his downfall in the games, despite his best efforts, or if he had one I would have had his condition improve greatly post-games._**

* * *

 _Take this hurt away, bring back yesterday_

 _I could say sorry, in a thousand ways_

 _You won't let this be, without cutting me_

 _GET UP YOU WHORE!_

SLAM!

Ugh…not the gentlest way to wake up in the morning. Then again, Jaze doesn't do 'gentle' anymore. My aching head raises up, groggy eyes fluttering open but slowly. The room starts off blurry, but soon enough my eyes come into focus and everything fades into sharp contrast. Currently half of me is on the floor, whilst my legs are still lying on the bed. Blankets are sprawled around me and my god damn hair is a mess! I don't know why it was a good idea to let Felicia mess with it whilst I was drunk. The unfortunate side effects of alcohol.

 _Naw, that's just you baby-cakes. You're an idiot no matter whether you're sober or intoxicated._

Shut it. I don't need this first thing in the morning. Jaze continues to whisper, though I can barely hear it over the sudden hangover that's just invaded my brain. But I can't just sit here; I seriously need a cold drink…

To hell with it. I kick off the sheets (albeit looking like a thrashing fish as I do so) and throw myself forward. Weakly I force my legs to push up, but I stumble and shake, having to throw my hand to the wall to keep upright. Ugh, it feels like someone hacked them with a saw…

 _Somebody did._

Holy shit!

Now my senses are returning a pungent smell of blood attacks my nostrils. Even worse is the sight of the sickly red stain on my pale blue pyjama legs. Not again…

I have no choice but sit down on my bed and roll them up. What comes to me is an expected sight. Both knees harbour each a large, deep gash. They look like the kind of wound that would be inflicted by some sort of hatchet, like the ones I sometimes see used by tributes.

 _You know we don't have those here, but we do have large kitchen knives._

Sick. You're sick.

 _It's your own fault._

I can't even shout at him; I'm far too tired. My eyes direct to the clock beside my bed.

5:00? The bastard woke me up at 5:00? I can hear him snickering. I probably won't even be able to get back to sleep at this rate. It'll be useless trying to. It's happened before. Jaze rouses me from sleep at some ridiculously early time. I yell at him. Try to sleep again. He yells back every 5 minutes. This continues until Celine finally bursts in and nearly pulls my arm out of its socket trying to get me up. So no point fighting it.

 _That's no fun._

Only for you honey. Reluctantly I swing back out of bed, smoothing down my ruffled hair then stumble to the large mirror hanging on the wall. I assess this morning's damage. Kind of a little routine I've had to do every morning thanks this vicious little voice-person! Anyway:

Hair? Messy, will need styling or brushing. Only a little bit though. Gloria loves the messy black hair look.

Eyes? Still only half blind. I haven't lost the eye-patch yet and I can still see out the other icy blue orb. Miraculously I'll add.

Scars? Nothing new aside from the hacked knees. They can be covered up with the right jeans though. The rest requires the normal layer of thin makeup.

 _Little voice in your head? Still present and accounted for._

Thanks for reminding me. I wonder if I should change now?

 _Do it; you always look good in reaping clothes, maybe show a little skin. Come on you look sexy enough, do it, maybe even nothing at all…_

I don't even know how but I look back in the mirror to find myself reflected, standing only in my underwear.

 _Maybe that'll be fine._

Pervy bastard.

 _You can't say anything, whore._

Damn…I grit my teeth and open the wardrobe to my right. However, my hands seem to move themselves as they sift through the clothes. They soon pull out two items of clothing. A faded royal blue t-shirt and black jeans.

 _You looked soooo good in those._

These were at the back of the wardrobe. I kept them there on purpose. I don't think I've worn them since I was fifteen, not since-

 _We first met._

I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT!

"Big brother, you okay?"

Shit. Celine. I forgot she always gets up early on reaping day. Poor thing can never keep her anxieties in one place on this kind of day.

"Yeah, I'm fine Celine, just yelling at my, um…alarm clock. Woke me up too early"

 _Liar_

"Okay, well if you're up can we play a game? Also dad says do you want him to make some breakfast quickly before he goes to work?"

"Sure thing sis, just give me a moment to change"

"You're changing now? It's a little early"

 _Yeah, but he'll look so gorgeous when he does bitch._

Don't call her that.

"Whatever, you're so vain sometimes" she whines, but I know she doesn't mean it because she giggles before I hear her run off, yelling something incomprehensible to dad. She's so sweet. I hope to hell she doesn't get reaped. Don't think I could handle losing something else.

 _Oh you'll miss her but you won't miss me?_

Don't start this again.

 _Maybe you need to learn just how it hurts._

What's that supposed to mean?

"Kaius! I have bacon!"

Bacon! Mm, delicious meaty slices of heaven. Whatever, I'll just put on the clothes then.

 _Damn right you will._

* * *

I'm sat at the table, fork and knife in either hand. Dad, in an almost gay flourish, slides a plate of fresh bacon and eggs onto the table. It doesn't even take me five minutes to devour the entire plate. Dad sits on the other side whilst I do so. He looks a little sad. I choke down the last bite and let the cutlery clatter on the plate. Dad looks up. He pushes his red glasses into place then speaks in a low tone, almost like he wants no-one to hear.

"Kaius…its' your last reaping today"

"I know dad" I mutter.

"If…if you do happen to get reaped…I just…"

He looks lost. Totally lost. He shuffles his hands but then pulls out something. He pulls out his fist, which is bunched up, holds it over the table and unclasps whatever he is holding. A small silver chain not unlike what you'd find as part of a necklace clatters on the table.

"Sorry I couldn't find anything to go with it. Kaius just remember how smart you are; if you are reaped don't get side-tracked. Let Gloria help you. She's a smart girl. So are you. You'd make a powerful team"

He's making it sound like I'm going to get reaped for sure.

 _Maybe the odds are against you this year. Or maybe other forces are in place…_

Again, what is that supposed to mean?

"Anyway, this is only hypothetically speaking" he awkwardly interjects. He coughs and stands up.

"I've gotta go, gonna be late otherwise. I'm taking time out for the reaping later, will be there with mum, I promise"

"Okay" Is all I can muster. He grabs his bag from beside the front door and opens it, but doesn't leave.

"Oh and Kaius, one more thing"

"Yeah?"

"…Don't let anyone make your decisions for you"

He nods.

"Bye Celine!"

"Bye daddy!"

And with that he shuts the front door.

 _You barely said a word. You should respect your dad more than that. Ungrateful child._

Says you! Besides I was confused.

' **Don't let anyone make your decisions for you'**

 _Don't listen to him. He's just an old man._

What…what if he's talking about you though? You're always fucking telling me what to do!

 _Yeah but you like it. That's why._

Yeah but-

"Big brother! Are you finished with breakfast? You said you'd play a game with me!"

I look down to see the petite ball of springs that is my sister Celine. She's admiring her reflection in the shiny spoon I didn't touch. She's quite pretty, looking far more like dad than I do. She shares the dark brown hair-always held in bunches-and the brown eyes. Despite this she has my mother's curiosity and a LOT of sibling admiration. It's kind of cute but it does mean she wants me nearly every hour of the day.

 _And she always interrupts our time together._

If anything that's a good thing. If anything she keeps me sane.

"Kaius? Answer me! Kaius Kaius Kaius Kaius Kaius Kaius Kaius Kaius…"

Not this again.

"Alright, alright! Let me just put plate away first"

She grins and bounds away into the front room. She's so full of energy. Sometimes I swear she could win the games just by bouncing away from everything. No matter if she is only fourteen. Once I have put the plate away I join my sister in the front room. She's still in her nightgown, sitting on the floor with a dusty old game board in front of her. Wonder where she found that.

"Look what I found!" She exclaims, opening up the board. It's a strange board, with about a hundred squares laced with what look like snakes (I've only seen them in pictures) and ladders.

"I think it's called 'snakes and ladders'. My teacher gave it to me when I got full marks in my test on Panem history-thanks to you!"

That's another thing we always do together. She may be clever but she's only young and requires my help.

 _Look at helpful little you._

Shut it.

"Do you know how to play?" I ask, trying to ignore Jaze.

"Okay, so you roll the dice and move that many spaces on the board"

She demonstrates.

"And if you land on a snake you go up and you move down ladders…wait it's the other way round!"

I laugh a little. She picks up a red plastic thing then hands me a little blue one.

"Alright I get red because I'm loveable and you get blue because it matches your shirt and your eyes…eye"

Silence hangs over the two of us. Not even Jaze speaks. She doesn't know why, she only saw what happened to me. We both kept it secret. Even so it's an avoided topic.

I decide to break the tension by rolling the dice.

"Looks like I got six, lucky me!" I say, moving my piece and landing one short of a snake.

 _How suitable. It only takes one move you know, to change that luck._

That's probably the scariest thing he's said all morning.

* * *

Celine won in the end. Looks like I am falling short of luck. Mum came downstairs halfway through. She doesn't quite have to work as early as dad does because she does all her work from home. It mainly involves technological repairs. People send her things; she fixes them like it's as natural as breathing. She'd absolutely fit in if we lived in district 3, after all their industry is technology. Sometimes I help my mother out with the repairs. I'm not too bad with a screwdriver. I just have to watch out for Jaze trying to get me electrocuted.

 _That'd be fun to watch._

Damn it. Anyway that's what I'm doing now, fiddling with something I think is a toaster. It seems far from fixable but mother assures me it can be done. She's quite a pretty woman. Though some people say I'm far more boisterous and daring than her we certainly share looks. She too has black hair, but it's longer and neater. She's pale with two sets of icy blue eyes, but they aren't cold. Quite the opposite, she could melt your heart like butter on a warm pancake and gives you the same nice feeling. It's even just makes me happy to sit there tinkering whilst I watch my mum do the same, though with a more satisfied smile. It's times like this when Jaze doesn't bother me. I really don't know why. It's peaceful though and I absolutely love it.

Only problem is that it gets well…a little boring.

RING!

Bloody phone. I pick it up and walk into the next room, only to be answered with a smooth, relaxed and all too familiar voice.

"Kaius my friend, you still up for the party later?"

 _Not eco freak Zack._

"Yeah, sure thing Zack. What about the girls?"

 _You mean air-head and ginger locks?_

Yes…

"Felicia's free, said she's gonna turn up in her reaping dress. If it's as short as last years you may have to leash me" he replies seductively "not that you'd complain about that now, would you?"

 _That's right, you dirty whore. Only one thing is ever on your mind. Going to treat him like a sex object too? All chained up? Then 'lose' him when it gets boring? Oh yes I can see the images in your head now, precious eco Zack wrapped in vines…_

Stop it, stop it, STOP IT! GET OUT OF MY BRAIN!

 _Can you imagine him Kaius?_

NO! Please…

"Kaius? You okay buddy?" Zack's voice echoes worriedly from the other end of the phone line.

"Y-yeah, no worries" I manage to say whilst trying to calm myself down.

"Oh, good. It sounded like you started to hyperventilate there"

"It's okay, my sister just scared me" I lie.

"Oh, if you say so. Just that you've been acting a bit…funny lately. It's kind of concerning. Felicia and Gloria have noticed it too"

"Maybe I'm just ill"

 _Yeah, mentally ill._

Shut it.

"Anyway, yeah Felicia will be there but Gloria's busy with the arrangements for the reaping later. In her words 'sorry, but I've got to get the sparks flying with mister mayor', then a winky face" he explains, laughing at the end. I laugh too. She's such a cheek sometimes.

"That's a shame" I simply reply.

 _Not for me. Less competition._

"Yeah. Since she won she's always busy. I feel sorry for her. Hey, want me to come get you and we'll go together? I'm sure I can get out my eco-virtue meeting early"

"Yes, please do"

"Okay then, see you soon!"

The phone line immediately cuts off, leaving me in silence.

 _You bastard._

Whatever. I've had enough of this all morning. YOU are NOT going to ruin this party. Maybe Zack is just what I need to relax for a little while. I breathe a sigh and walk back into the front room. Mum's still tinkering away and it looks like Celine must settled down whilst I was on the phone.

"Hey mum, I'm going out with Zack when he gets here" I speak a little loudly. Sometimes you have to in order to capture her attention.

"Okay dear, I'll see you at the reaping later" she replies, softer as she finishes her sentence. Then, with ridiculously good timing, there's a knock on the door. However before I can actually get to the door, Celine has already bounced her way there and has opened it to reveal Zack. Damn he looks fine today. His tanned, muscled body is adorned with a red tank top and baggy camo trousers, plus his trademark trainers.

 _I bet you want to take advantage of that._

He's my friend. Besides he likes Felicia.

 _I bet you do too._

No. Alright screw you.

 _You already have._

I saunter over to Zack, hands on my hips (it's our little joke, I always play up my bisexuality around him), then stand over him, smirking (he's so short, or maybe I'm just tall?). He looks up.

"Hello gorgeous, ready to go?" I ask mischievously. He chuckles and steps back.

"Back up bi-boy, this body's for Felicia only"

"Dude! My sister's here!" I say camply, pointing Celine who smiles sweetly.

"Whatever, let's go" he laughs, grabbing my arm.

"Mum! I'm going!"

"OKAY!"

"WAIT!"

The little screech of 'wait' comes from Celine grabbing my leg.

"C-can you w-wait for me later? Please?" She pleads.

 _Why bother? She can find her own fucking way._

She's my sister!

"Sure thing, wait for me on the bench outside the nearest power plant to the stage. You know, the one where Zack protests all the time"

Zack grumbles but Celine nods.

"Okay!"

Eco boy takes that as his cue and drags me out the door, leaving my sister's innocent face to comfort me.

* * *

Soon as we arrive at the abandoned plant, it seems some awesome party freaks have already gotten the place swinging. Especially since one is swinging on the lampshades. Seriously are they drunk already?

"WOOOOOOO!" he screams loud enough it nearly bursts my eardrums. He doesn't hang on too much longer; his hands slip a little, then he slides off fully and crashes to the floor with a crunching 'thud'.

"Oooooooooooh"

 _Idiot._

For once I agree with you. None the less, he IS probably hurt.

"Come on Zack"I sigh. Gloria has the best medical knowledge so I've got to rely on what I can remember from her. We both move closer and kneel to the guy's side. He's propping himself up on one arm with the hand on the other clutching at the brown locks of his hair with the other. Droplets of blood dribble down his cheek. He looks about sixteen, his hair is a little curly, blue innocent eyes…he kinda reminds me of…of…

Growling. Angry growling.

"Hey, chill out!"

"Um, Kaius, everyone IS chilled. Except you dude, you're shivering. Cold or something?"

Shit. Calm down, please calm down…

 _Oh you're far from calm, at least you will be soon._

Stop torturing me!

"Kai-"

"I'm no well, that's all. Got a…a bad cold, okay? It's what I get for walking around in my underwear" I finish slyly. Zack looks hesitant, nerves on edge, but then he smirks.

"Alright then, but I don't wanna know what else you do in your underwear. Anyway we gonna help this guy or not?" he says, slapping my back.

"Y-yeah, sure"

I look back down to him and lean closer.

"So where does it hurt?" I ask, though my voice is surprisingly lower, huskier.

That's not even my voice.

Then there's a scream. Panic. Hysteria. Where? I don't know. What's happening? Noise is overloading my brain. I'm confused. Someone laughs. It's Jaze.

 _This is what you get for looking at other guys._

"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK!"

Now I understand what's happening. It's that kid. He's screaming. And he's bleeding. Not just the few little dribbles from his head. There's a large ugly gash running from his ear down to the collarbone. Judging by the blood soaking my jeans it seems pretty deep too. His eyes are wide, huge, struck with terror. Zack's clutching him, most likely in an attempt to him away from whatever hurt him. They're both looking at something. A knife. In my hand.

I think it's me they're scared of.

I'm not even shocked. Why would I be? This is Jaze's fault. Again. He always hurts me; it was just a matter of time before he hurt someone else.

 _But it's not me they're scared of. It's you. It's all your fault. I'm not even real remember? I just the little voice in your head…_

"Fuck you, it is your fault"

"What's wrong with you Kaius? Who the hell are you talking to?" someone whimpers. It's too high pitched to be Zack or the kid, and the only other people here are guys. Unless it's…

"Kaius?"

Felicia. Please be anyone but Felicia. Her snivelling, disturbed face says otherwise.

"W-why? Why did you, I-I thought you c-could handle this, I-I thought you said y-you were okay?"

I am okay. It's Jaze that's messed up.

"I am okay Feli, totally fine. Come on, let's get a drink, calm down and we'll get this party started huh?"

I stand up and wander closer, reaching my arms out for a quick hug. I smile too, just to say I'm fine (because I am fine). Cute, petite Felicia isn't the brightest spark, but she's got the greatest heart of anybody. She'll forgive me.

But she steps back. Further back still. Just enough to stay out of reach.

"N-no, j-just stop it. Wh-why? Y-you're so nice…aren't you? So c-cool…" she chokes out, sobs caught in her throat, doubt still evident. Poor darling, she doesn't have to be like this. Can't she just be her normal self? I haven't done anything wrong…

"Feli-"

"WHY!?"

One step closer. She doesn't move.

"Come on, I didn't do anything, it's all right"

"GET AWAY FROM ME! FREAK!"

That tears it. Something snaps. That's it; I'm just gonna fucking welcome Jaze back. My hands find themselves gripping her shoulders, then violently shaking her with every word I let it all spill out.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU'RE JUST STUPID. YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME? WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUTWHAT I FUCKING HAVE TO LIVE WITH…if only you knew what he did to me, that bastard he-STOP,JUST STOP THERE!"

ACK, sharp pain strikes the side of my face, leaving a throbbing ache that pains me as much as the hoarseness of my throat. But I barely feel it. I'm just too angry. Any my assailant will feel that anger.

 _Just let it all out Kaius, you don't have to hide anything for them, let yourself go…_

I will. I swipe a hand out in front to strike who I assume to be Felicia or (more likely) Zack but instead it gets caught in mid-air, by a pale and familiar hand.

Gloria slapped me. Her normal grinning face remains solemn. The twinkle is lost in her green eyes and ginger curls fall over her face. She looks just like she did when the district 6 girl died. She never lets go of my arm; not for a second. We have a small staring match for a few seconds until she speaks up, but not as harshly as I'd expected.

"I leave you guys for a just a couple of hours, and when I come back what do I find? Zack panicking, Felicia broken, one guy bleeding and you soaked in blood, snarling and screaming and attacking everyone around you. They may as well have replaced you Kaius with a wolverine or whatever those vicious animals are"

 _Who's she calling a vicious animal? She bloody killed someone! More than that if I remember._

Don't you mean if I remember?

 _I am you._

I…

 _You really think that was ME that hurt your friends? I'm only a voice Kaius, you can still make your own choices, like that one stupid choice a long time ago_

You called her a vicious animal for killing someone. I did the same thing…

 _Then maybe air-head is right on the ball this time. I mean look at yourself._

My hands…they're red, sticky, dripping crimson.

"Stop spacing out! Stop it, it's scaring me" a broken voice interjects. It's Zack, hunched over the bleeding boy, now unconscious, eyes widened and body shivering. Gloria snaps her fingers to call back my attention. Felicia has built up some courage to move closer, but only so that she can rest her sobbing face on Gloria's shoulder. One hand remains on her back whilst the other tightens into a fist.

"I think you should go Kaius. I saw Celine waiting outside the power plant on the way here. She asked how long her brother would be. I said I'll send him right over. Just get something right today, please" she mutters, voice devoid of anything, be it anger, sadness or disappointment.

 _Better scurry off little rat._

Looking around, it's like everyone is thinking the same. I skulk round Felicia and Gloria and walk towards the exit, but as soon as I turn the corner I run. Run fast and hard and trip and get back up again and just keep running. Just keep running.

 _But you can't escape you know._

* * *

Just as Gloria said, Celine is waiting at our arranged point. She's on the bench with a book, humming a happy tune to herself, completely unaware of the world. I envy her. Before I even take enough steps close to, her face springs up like a puppy dog that's been waiting for its owner.

 _I guess animalism runs in the family._

Just go away!

"KAIUS!" she exclaims, suddenly latching onto my waist tightly. My breath catches in my front. Can't breathe, I can't breathe, can't see her, not like this, I'm gonna hurt her…

"Big brother?"

 _Don't worry. I won't bother you…for now._

For now?

"Uh, Celine, hey sis" I manage to choke out, squeezing her back. She clings tighter.

"What's wrong?"

She says nothing for a moment and continues to hold onto to me like a lifeline.

"I-I don't want to go in" she squeaks.

"Celine, it's alright to be scared. Everyone is. There are worse things to be afraid of"

"No there aren't!" she shouts wildly. She doesn't even know the half of it.

"Yes, there are, trust me so just keep your head high as always, put on a brave face and march in there like a soldier" I try to comfort her, tousling her hair. She sniffles and looks at me.

"Like, all tough and stuff"

"Yeah"

That seems to put a smile back on her face, which is helpful for me. The walk to the reaping area isn't far, only five minutes but the whole time I still hold Celine's hand. I don't even know why but something doesn't want me to let her go. Sadly, that something isn't the peacekeepers as they separate us once we pass the gate, dividing us between the age sections. I manage enough to give her a wave before she's lost within the other young girls. Amongst them I also pick out Felicia, but she doesn't notice me. I probably shouldn't bother her either. Not after earlier.

So I wave it off and go through the normal situation. I've been it so many times now it seems normal Weird to think next year I won't have to do this ever again. Unless some bloody future quell forces me back in.

 _Or unless you're reaped this year…_

Don't start. The peacekeeper pricks my finger, something which I barely feel and then I saunter over the eighteen year old males. I steer clear of Zack and the injured boy, both of which would most definitely start a fight or a commotion, even if Zack is an eco-loving wuss.

 _You'd be the one starting the fight anyway._

I though you said you'd leave me alone.

 _Obviously something is still biting at you, so I'm not going anywhere. Wonder if it's her…_

If it's who? Wait…Gloria. Being a victor and mentor she isn't with us but on stage, dressed elegantly in green. However, her face lacks to usual encouraging smile she normally wears to comfort tributes. Instead her face remains a blank slate, eyes glassed over and staring into nothing. Suddenly the air feels uneasy. Even worse so when this year's escort, Blank Whiteheart, literally jumps at the microphone. A fake grin is plastered across his purely white face, which looks a little creepy next to the white hair, pale eyes and white clothing (which all oddly contrasts with the black glasses).

 _Apparently 'albino' is back in fashion._

That's actually pretty funny, I chuckle a bit but I get some weird looks. Laughing in Blank's presence is considered strange. Mainly when he opens his mouth.

"Helloooo district five! I just flew over here from the capitol and boy, are my arms tired!"

Nobody laughs. Except the mayor who claps awkwardly.

"But seriously" (yeah right) "I always love coming back here; I always have such POWERful fun!"

Groan.

"I'd love to visit more often but I just don't have the money!"

What the hell does that one even mean? Some stupid capitol joke no doubt.

At a time like this, either myself, Zack or Felicia would yell 'GET ON WITH IT!'. None of us speak up this time so we all have to suffer his atrocious jokes.

"GET ON WITH IT!"

I spoke too soon. But that wasn't Zack or Felicia, so who…the girls section is roaring with laughter and congratulating someone. One girl shifts and reveals them to be Celine. Oh Celine, I've taught you well. Blank looks lost and a little sad, so the mayor hushes the crowd and turns back to the frowning escort.

"I believe it is time we chose our tributes Blank"

Nodding, Blank mumbles and shuffles over towards the girl's bowl.

Shit, I haven't even thought about this. It better not be Celine, not Celine, not Felicia…

His hand swishes round the little slips until he picks a tangled one. Blank takes his precious time unravelling it. Not Celine, not Felicia…

"Ladies, our female tribute is Alexandra Slithen!" he announces overexcitedly, arms outstretched.

Almost immediately the older girls disperse around one girl with blonde hair. She sobs for a minute but stumbles out and up towards the stage. Taking a good look I finally recognise her face. Her name sounds familiar. I think

 _I'm surprised. I thought a whore like you and a whore like her would be bloody perfect together!_

I'm NOT a whore. Just because I slept with someone OTHER THAN YOU!

 _That tears it. You know what you get for betraying me? For hurting me? I'm gonna make your life hell. Absolute hell._

What do you mean?

 _Volunteer._

What?

 _Do it. Volunteer._

Why?

 _I'll love you again if you do._

"I VOLUNTEER!"

"But I haven't read the name yet…"

Boys are dispersing. Where? Around me. What's happening? Why am I being dragged? STOP IT! Why?

 _You volunteered._

WHY?

 _For me._

 **WHY?**

 _Payback. For yourself._

"So what's your name lad?"

Reality washes back over me and suddenly I'm on stage, cameras at every angle and Blank's creepy face in mine. His question take a few seconds to register but I somehow regain my senses.

"Kaius, Kaius Wistful"

The single utterance of my name brings up screaming from the back row. A woman collapses and a man tries to help her up.

"MY BOY! WHY?" She continues screaming. It's mum. Who else would it be. She's in shock, terrified and heartbroken. Dad holds her but looks at me. Sad. Everywhere else, Celine is utter disbelief, shaking her head wildly. Felicia is tearing up, tears streaming. Zack's glaring, not just angry but furiously. He hates me. No wonder.

"Our tributes ladies and gentleman, Clemency Verdet and Kaius Wistful! Shake hands dears"

I quickly grab Clemency's hand and make no eye contact. Best not to associate myself with her. Best not to bring her into my world. My friends and family are suffering.

 _Well, where you're going you can always start again._

 _My blessings, my faults,_

 _I've learned all the lessons that cannot be taught_

 _Any abuses that I've brought_

 _No more excuses_

 _I want a new start._


	8. Kaius Wistful, D5 Male, Backstory Prompt

_**This was written as sort of an audition piece for Kaius when I submitted his character for Death Numbs the Pain: The 124th Hunger Games, a 24 author collab.**_

 _ **This piece looks at the first time he met the cause of all his current issues, his now deceased boyfriend Jaze Cordell.**_

* * *

He's just standing in the corner of the room, a drink in his hand and observing the other party goers. I don't remember inviting him (but then again half the people at my parties are just friends of friends of friends). It doesn't seem likely that he turned up on his own but if so then whoever brought him here dumped him and is probably drinking their ass off some place else. From a guess I'd say he was about my age, but his boyish looks and curly brown hair are kind of misleading…and kind of cute. His big blue eyes waver from side to side, then sometimes at his feet which indicates he's uncomfortable. My eyes waver around the room too. Gloria is amongst the crowd, bragging her victory in the games, accentuating her movements by slashing her arm down or kicking an invisible ball (or balls, don't get her angry). Man she's scary. Felicia looks intrigued by her words, as she's clinging close and nodding her head. The disco ball causes her eyes to sparkle. I keep looking but eventually I spot Zack, busting his moves on the floor. Where else would he be? Looking back round from my busy bee friends my eyes eventually direct back to the curly haired boy in the corner. I can't help it but he just looks so lonely. Lost. Like a little lost puppy. It's so adorable.

That's it I'm going to talk to him.

The notices almost immediately as my shove my way through the hyped up crowd, past the glorious Gloria and eventually in front of him. Upon closer contact we're also the same height. Our eyes meet at the same level. My brain fumbles around for the right words but all they can muster is:

"Pretty blue eyes"

"Excuse me?"

Hell, I hope I haven't offended him. Just turn on the charm Kaius, it's what you're good at.

"I said you've got some pretty blue eyes there"

He blushes just a little and takes a sip of his drink. The tension fades a little. Feeling a bit cheeky I gently place my hand on the wall beside his head and lean closer. I never lose eye contact with those beautiful orbs of blue.

"So I haven't seen you around here before, would've remembered a face like that" I say smoothly. Am I actually flirting with him? His innocent smile widens a little. His body relaxes a little more.

"Yeah, I was dragged here by Jerry. Name's Jaze Cordell, and I am 15, no younger" he answers softly.

Jaze Cordell. Those three syllables play like a little tune in my head.

Jaaaaze Cooordell….

"And you? Jerry said something like Kai….Kaia?"

"Kaius actually. Kaius Wistful" I say, with an added wink. Jaze smirks and so do I.

"So, you throw parties often?" he pitches in, seemingly desperate to make small talk. I love this guy.

"Yeah, but this is a special occasion"

As he glances at Gloria I know he understands. But he snaps back to attention quickly.

"Jerry told me about a party he went to once where a guy got drunk and took off all his clothes. Weren't one of yours was it?"

Jaze's eyes fill with a mischievous glint. I can't tell whether he's asking with concern or whether he's wishing it to be true. I'm veering towards the second choice. Especially since his head is leaning closer towards my hand.

"Well" I start "why don't you figure that out" I whisper, my voice strangely going deep and husky. Before I know it I've also got my lips locked on his. Nice move Kaius. You always have to be so forwards.

You're just lucky that he's kissing you back.


	9. Rodion Ara Hart, D10 Male, Reaping

**_Originally written for Death Numbs the Pain: The 124th Hunger Games collab but was never published. Unfinished due to lack of information from district partner's author._**

 ** _Rodion was intended to be my geeky superhero wannabe tribute that slowly lost his identity during the course of training and the games, yet still protected his fellow weaker tributes. I would have loved to have either seen him die protecting someone else, or win but at a great cost of his identity._**

* * *

' _Look here he comes now, bow down and stare in wonder_

 _Oh how we love you, no flaws when you're pretending'_

It seemed inevitable that I'd spend reaping day on the job.

Seriously, couldn't the district just act law-abiding for one day? Sigh, I'd have better luck convincing the president to cancel the hunger games. Nonetheless I am the Guardian, and as such it is my duty to protect each and every citizen of district 10 from harm. Not so easy though when you're facing a maniac farmer with a rusty pitchfork.

Said crazy old man currently has a young red haired girl, I'd say about seventeen or eighteen years old (it's always a young lady, I swear), sprawled in the dirt, the pitchfork's points hovering far too close for comfort at the delicate skin of her neck. She's breathing heavily, like she wants to scream, but at the same time is too terrified to utter a single sound. A basket of flowers and fruit is gripped tightly and protectively in her right hand. The old man pinning her just shouts and screams such nonsense and gibberish, making his demands VERY unclear. Literally just outside the old farm gates a small crowd of people has gathered, yet no-one is making any attempt to help her. Some are whispering 'the peacekeepers will do something' whilst others counter them with 'no way! That handsome, gorgeous, awesome guardian is gonna show up, you'll see'

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. But they got something right. I decide it's best to stop hiding from behind the crowd and finally make my entrance. I scoot back a bit and sneak towards a nearby oak tree, then shuffle my way up. Thankfully, the branches are slightly shaded by the leaves so they block any view of me, though it leaves me perfect sight of the target. So perfect…

I take care to make very little sound when reaching for my 'tools'. Gently I slip my hand down and towards the belt of my green trousers, and then select the sleekest, sharpest knife of the bunch, positioning it carefully between the tips of my thumb and forefinger. The sharp edges don't even make as much as a cut to my skin. Taking a better look at the old man, I keep the knife held in my hand whilst I raise it and aim. I've got to be careful; I aiming only for intimidation (wow, that's a big word for me) and maybe minor injury if things get out of hand, which almost all the time they do anyway. From down below the old man continues to jabber on and on, so amidst his ranting I seize the moment and strike. A flash of silver whistles through the air and lodges itself within the old man's foot. Instantly he cries out in pain, casts his pitchfork to one side, and clutches at the badly bleeding foot. His pathetic whimpering is my cue for a grand entrance. I decide to go with a backflip today, so I stand atop the branch backwards to the people, then with almighty strength in my legs I launch myself into the air, twirl backwards and land gracefully on the soles of my feet, arms outstretched like an angel, just inches away from the damsel in distress. She looks up my eyes in awe. Gasps and cheers echo from the crowd.

"It's the guardian!"

"He saved that girl's life!"

"He's so brave!"

"He's so handsome! Kiss me Guardian!"

Okay, I made that last one up. But someone's probably thinking it. This is who I am as the Guardian. Handsome, brave, amazing and so on so forth. I actually feel like a superhero.

Which reminds me, I'm being distracted from the matter at hand. The old man who had once been crying like a little girl is now fuming with anger, his cheeks sporting dark shades of red, almost like the hair of the young lady who is clutching my leg, terrified out of her wits. He's regained his pitchfork, and is poised for attack. He yells some unintelligible (another big word! Guess the little education I get has paid off a bit). He won't stay back for too much longer; I need to get the damsel out of the area. I kneel down and place my eyes (well, mask) level to her own, and smile comfortingly.

"What's your name miss?" I ask soothingly, so as to calm her. She breathes in sharply and responds.

"Panda" she sniffles.

"That's a lovely name. But you need to leave now dear, it's getting dangerous, can you walk?"

She nods and swiftly gets up. I point towards the farm gate and she skitters off to join what I assume is her awaiting sister in the crowd. My appreciation of the loving pair is cut short by the swing of something metal that barely misses my cheek as it leaves a light scrape. When I twist round I'm met with two eyes blazing with insanity. Seriously, why do I have to deal with crazy people? They don't listen to reason. The old man says something I don't understand and swings for a hit again, but this time I'm ready for it, and expertly dodge it. He looks a little more than irritated by actions and tries again and again but every time I step back, swing out the way or (just to show off) flip backwards. Getting tired of the chase I let him get closer, although what he doesn't anticipate is my foot, out of nowhere, and in his face. He stumbles backwards, crying out again, hands dropping the pitchfork once more to tend to the bloody mess that was once his nose. Happy with my handiwork, I pull out yet another knife and launch this time at his lower leg, repeating with the other which causes him to collapse fully, unable to stand. He continues to mutter and mutter but it's quite obvious that he's lost this fight. After all, no-one wins against the Guardian, except maybe that one guy…or a pretty girl. All that's left is to cool the crowd. Cheekily I bow for them but then put on a more serious tone to address them with.

"Don't worry folks! There's nothing left to fear, everything this been taken care of! Now I'll just be on-"

But as I try to leave, two peacekeepers shove their way ruthlessly through the masses of people and storm through into the farm. Like usual, they're both dressed in white and wearing helmets that hide their faces. Both are tightly gripping some truncheons, and don't look happy to see me. I know just what they're going to say to.

" _What d'ya think you're doing mate? Stop doing our bloody jobs for us and shove off"_

Well, maybe more maturely than that. The shorter one goes over to inspect the injured old man, who is still muttering gibberish. He then looks at me.

"You injured an old man. I thought you were supposed to be a hero?"

"He is no hero" The other one states. What does he mean?

"Of course he's a hero! He just saved my life, that old man was going crazy and was going to kill me! He's amazing and wonderful!" Panda exclaims from the side-lines. Her big green eyes shine with admiration for me. It's kind of sweet.

"Do you even who he is?" the peacekeeper asks. What as stupid question, there's a reason I wear the mask…unless…

"Well, do you?" Panda's sister retorts. The peacekeeper doesn't say a word, but I see a small smirk creep up his lips from underneath helmet.

Of course. It's him. That one stupid peacekeeper. If he says anything, just spills one little word…

"There are some truths in this world that are total mismatches for their reality" he whispers, so quietly so that I think only I can hear it. It seems deliberate. Returning to his stoic self, he turns to his companion by the old man and commands him to bring him to the jail down the street, and then turns back to the crowd.

"Shouldn't the rest of you be preparing for the reapings? Especially you miss" he scowls, referring to Panda "young ladies don't do well when they speak out like that here"

Flushed with emotion, Panda tries to yell out again, but is held back by her sister, who leads her away from the crime scene. Eventually, all that's left is me and him. In the awkwardness I try to sneak away but his voices trails me as I do.

"Don't think you're getting off the hook for this. I let you go last time but that doesn't mean I'm never going to punish you, you won't be able to keep up this false other you forever…Rodion"

I run. Run as fast as possible away from him, him and his lies. His silly, false lies. Heart pounding, chest burning, eyes blinded. He's not me. He doesn't know me. He only knows the Guardian.

The better me.

* * *

The alleyway behind the orphanage is almost always empty during the daytime, which makes it the perfect escape route and return route when I have missions to do and people to save. It's rather narrow, damp and dim and always smells of rotting garbage, though living in the orphanage my whole life I've kind of gotten used to that smell. I take hesitant steps, letting my hands slide across the slimy walls. Each slimy streak sends a disgusted shiver down my spine. It's so gross! SO GROSS!

I'm not the Guardian now. I'm back to being Rodion Ara Hart, so I can complain as much as I want about the icky sliminess. As much as it creeps me out, it's a little necessary thing I have to do. When my fingers reach the smoother, but still somewhat sticky vine I breathe out a sigh of relief. Lucky for me, this vine trails up towards my bedroom, making for the perfect emergency exit. Plus it's just so cool, makes me feel like a proper superhero jumping into the darkness and out into the light to save the day! Although, when I'm Rodion, it's just an icky nuisance to climb back up again.

Totally grossed out, I grab the vine, and once I've determined the vine is holding my weight, begin to climb upwards. It's a short climb and within seconds I reach my window, always unlatched and leap in, landing gracefully on my feet. I'm in my room again; I untie the fabricated mask attached to my face and with a toss of my hat to the bed my work for the day is officially finished. Now I can just be a normal, everyday, district ten teenager. A heavy sigh escapes my lungs, and somehow I'm able to shuffle my way over to the mirror. Out of the job, I don't really feel that handsome; guess arrogance comes with the other identity. My hair is sort of a dirty blonde, very curly and often gets in the way of my crystal blue eyes. I'm only a little tan and my face is kind of geeky. The only really good thing I've got going for me is my toned body, muscled to perfection. Girl's often comment about my 'bulging biceps'. Some guys too interestingly.

I gotta try that someday. Wonder which way Sheaf swings?

Someone raps three quiet little knocks on the door.

"Rodey! Big brother! BIG BROTHER!" A childish voice shrieks from the opposite side of the door; it nearly makes my eardrums bleed. I've only been home five minutes and already I'm wanted again, only this time not for saving lives and thwarting danger (didn't Sheen teach me what 'thwarting' meant?).

"ANSWER THE DOOR!"

Bloody hell can he scream.

"Alright, alright already!" I answer tiredly, then slam open the door. I have to look way down to find my demander, where a tiny little brown haired kid stands, hands behind his back and huge brown puppy dog eyes staring back at me. Of course, only little Riley Bar could get away with being that irritating.

"You're late big brother" he squeaks, then pinches my leg. He's such a cheek. He's not even my real brother, but when you live in an orphanage you kind of find that other, younger orphans get rather clingy to you, then eventually they become your family. Much like Riley treats me like a brother. He'd never know family otherwise. That's why I put up with his cheek.

OW! Riley smiles after punching my leg, but then hugs it (he's so small). I reach down my long, lanky arms to ruffle his hair and he grins.

"What do you want today little puppy?"

"You said we could play today! Before the reaping!"

Oh shit, of course I did! Riley was twelve only a week ago, but freaked out his entire birthday after remembering the reaping was really soon. It'll be his first, and damn it to hell if he can't have a happy life before having it all torn away. Hell if he did get reaped I'd probably volunteer. I'm not scared.

But anyway there's a teensy little problem with today's plan-I promised Sheena and Sheaf I'd help them finish off their work in the stables.

But I have to play with Riley.

But I also have to work.

Riley. Work. Riley. Work.

If only I could combine them somehow. Why can't I be smart?

"Can we go see some animals, big brother?" Riley asks innocently. Of course! I could take Riley to the stables, see the cute animals and help Sheena and Sheaf all at the same time! I'm such a genius!

Just kidding. Sheena says I'm dumb as a post.

Although she says The Guardian is smart.

* * *

It takes just a few minutes or so to journey to the closest stables, but Riley still holds my hand the whole way. Sometimes, this kid can be such a pain in the ass. He pinches, bites, screams, punches, pouts, scratches, refuses to eat, yells, cries, pulls my hair, draws on my face, puts beetles in my bed, comes up with rumours that I happen to secretly be a super gay which causes several really camp gay guys to turn up outside my bedroom trying to fondle and kiss me and one of them just happens to go and lie on my bed in a rather suggestive way with his short unbuttoned and his pants slightly torn off…and Riley just generally wrecks everything in his path (besides the case I'm only bi-curious).

But under all that he's still a shy kid that's scared of the world, like a baby bird. And baby birds like to cling to something, like he clings to me. He hasn't talked really on our way there but as soon as the pigs come into sight he squeals and runs over all excitedly.

"Look! Look Rodey! LOOK!" he screeches again, waving his arm frantically at the (probably frightened) pig.

"Is that kid still being a banshee?" Sheaf asks, almost laughing as he turns up from round the corner of the barn, his twin sister Sheena following closely behind, lugging hay.

"What's a banshee?" I ask, earning a slap round the back of my hand from Sheena.

"You're an idiot" she says, but not too harshly. Sheena tends to be a bit harsh and intimidating (still impressed I remembered that word), but she has her humorous moments. Sheaf on the other hand is far more quiet and sullen, but a nice guy and very caring. The two of them don't look much alike either. Though they both have dark skin and dark eyes, Sheaf's hair is shaved short and his face looks more young and soft, contrasting the muscles on his body that could almost match mine. It makes him kind of cute, yet strong at the same time. Sheena however has a more matured, serious face topped with a black, giant frizzy hairdo that looks rather striking. She has some toned muscles as well which takes away some of her feminine side. Despite that, she's kind of beautiful…in a really weird way. All in all, they're both my best friends-Sheaf and Sheena Wheaton-and always have been and I wouldn't trade them for all the riches in the capitol.

"Never mind" Sheaf sighs, taking the hay from Sheena and chucking it into the pig pen. Riley pouts as the pigs move away from him and towards the hay to eat.

"Heeeeey! Why'd you do that?" he whines, and Sheena and I groan in unison. She, like me, cannot stand his whining. Sheaf however just smiles.

"They needed feeding. You wouldn't want the piggies getting all hungry and then dying now, would you?" he says. Riley shuts his mouth, then leans over the pig-pen gate and pouts. Sheaf nods and looks at Sheena, who looks at me.

"Right, ready to work? All that's left are to milk the goats, feed the chickens and repair the broken chicken coop" she explains to me, slowly so that I can take it all in. Before I can open my mouth though, she barks something else at me

"I'm gonna go do the milking, Sheaf is going to repair the broken coop and you can do the simple job of feeding the chickens Rodion" she orders. It figures she'd give me the easiest job. I'm not even that dumb though. Training as the guardian, I have actually acquired some skills with various tools, so fixing a coop wouldn't have been a problem.

But that could possibly blow my cover so I just suck it up and follow Sheaf over towards the chicken pen whilst Sheena heads in the other direction. Once there Sheaf immediately picks up his toolbox and begins work. I head other to the battered store-shed myself to gather the feed.

Well, not just that.

Despite having black peeling paint and reeking of farm-animals, the store-shed happens to be a goldmine for handy tools: rope, food, potential weapons. It's a little wrong to say, but sometimes I nick a few things for the Guardian. Yes, that IS technically stealing, but if it's for a greater cause then doesn't that balance it out?

The chicken feed is somewhere towards to back, so the foxes can't get to it as easily, and as I make my way to the back, I happen to pass by a few tempting little bits of metal and wood I could use to make more throwing knives. It's only a few little bits; not anything the Wheaton family will miss. Quietly I slip a few little bits into my jacket pockets.

"What on earth are you doing!?"

Shit. I whip round and who else but Sheaf is standing there. He doesn't look too distressed but his tone says otherwise.

"Um…uh…" I mumble. I don't know what I to say. Sheaf moves a little closer.

"I come in here to get a better hammer, and then I see you slipping sharp metal into your pockets? Why the hell would you need that?" he asks me softly, some concern washing over his face.

Damn, damn, damn. What if he suspects? What does he suspect? What can I tell him without freaking him out? I can't tell him the truth, even if he is my best friend. Oh hell…

"Rodion, is there something you need to tell me?" He asks again softly.

"I…"

He looks at me.

"I…I've been…feeling…kind of depressed" I manage to choke out. His eyes widen with a little shock. I'm going to hate myself for this later, but it's the best excuse can think of right now.

"You don't mean…you were thinking of hurting yourself?" He asked worriedly. I nod solemnly and look at the floor. To support the lie, I roll up my sleeves and show him the scars I've gotten from previous fights as the Guardian. Sheaf seems to believe it easily, as I suddenly feel two strong arms grab me around the waist, and a head bury into my shoulder. I hear sobs. Is Sheaf crying?

After a couple of moments, Sheaf let's go, but he stays close and looks me straight in the eye.

"Rodion…no I'm not even going to ask why, but…understand you don't have to feel like this. Sheena and I are always there for you no matter what happens, so please…just…don't do something stupid…like kill yourself" he chokes out, getting quieter and quieter until he's whispering hoarsely. I nod and turn around to pick up the bag of chicken feed. I then say "Let's get back to work then" pretending to nearly cry, but smiling at the same time. Sheaf nods and follows me outside, heading back the coop whilst open the bag and toss the chicken feed into the pen.

Every now and again, Sheaf will flash me a warm smile and a quiet "you okay?" to which I nod.

We don't work for much longer. Sheaf and I finish up quickly and meet Sheena and Riley back near the pig pen. Sheaf wanders over to his sister and whispers something to her, and she responds by hugging me tightly and whispering "it's okay". When she pulls back I see a couple of tears. I just whisper back "thanks" and grabs Riley's hand, leaving there quickly.

I didn't want to lie.

I didn't want to make my friends think something so awful.

But I have an identity they can't know about, and as much I love my friends…

No. Not my friends.

Rodion's friends.

It's the Guardian that can't afford the luxury of friends.

And that's why they can't know.

…

Right?

* * *

I spend the next hour or so sitting alone in my room. I told Riley I needed some alone time, to which he bit my hand and walked off. Once alone I decided to distract myself by tying together the metal and wood I was still able to slip past Sheaf into some more throwing knives, then testing them out on the makeshift target I keep hidden under my bed. But every time I looked at the reflection in them I only saw a blonde-haired stranger with an arrogant smile. For a moment I kinda did want to cut myself with them, and I didn't even know why.

After I finished all that up though, I was left with a little less than enough time than I'd have wanted to dress myself for the reaping. Unsurprisingly, none of the good clothes have been washed, and the only things left in my clothes pile are the Guardian stuff-the matching green jacket and trouser set, white shirt, mask, hat and black boots-and also the clothes I'm wearing now. I can't really wear what I'm wearing know because it's kind of dirty, but obviously I can't wear the Guardian get-up either. Hmm, if only there was a way I could make an outfit with just these items…

I am seriously dumb sometimes. Couldn't I just mix them together?

Yeah, that'd work. Let's see, I'll wear the black pants and shirt I'm wearing now, the green guardian jacket, my brown work boots…oh and a tie!

I am so awesome sometimes…even though it looks like a fashion disaster, at least it's not suspicious and it's clean!

' _Without the mask, where will you hide?_

 _Can't find yourself, lost in your lie'_

 _~Everybody's Fool by Evanescence~_


	10. Rodion Ara Hart, D10 Male, Backstory

_**This was written as sort of an audition piece for Rodion when I submitted his character for Death Numbs the Pain: The 124th Hunger Games.**_

 _ **This piece goes into the first time that Rodion's secret identity was discovered.**_

* * *

"What the HELL do you think you're doing mate?"

Of course he knows what he's doing. He's got a sixteen year old girl by the scruff of her shirt, far too closely to his face. She has a small piece of crumbling bread held tightly between her fingers. Tears are welling in the corners of her eyes but you can see she's trying hard not to let them fall. My guess is she stole that bread. In our poor little district it's not uncommon, yet this uptight peacekeeper has decided to heavily lay down the law on her. Just for the sake of a little bit of bread. It's sad really, but that's what I'm here for.

The man in white scowls, with his head turned to me. You can't see his eyes behind the helmet but he seems to be scanning me up and down.

"Great. You're not that bloody guardian are you?" he grumbles. He knows the answer which is why he keeps fist clenched on the fabric. Normally I'd be like that girl he's holding but the Guardian can't afford fear. So, I just smile and pretend to laugh carelessly.

"Bingo mate. And I guess you can see my little sharp friends too" I slowly pull out a knife from behind my back, only so much that he can see the handle "so how about you let her go and we can have a nice long chat?"

"Screw you"

"I figured you'd say that" I softly state, and in a flash the knife in my hand is whipped out a tears through the air until it lodges itself within peacekeepers hand. He lets out a pained scream, instantly releasing the young girl who stumbles past me, uttering a quick 'thank you'. I can't focus on her because I know what will happen next. My eyes stay of the white clad. He groans and stumbles forward. His right hand grips the handle of the knife in the other and sharply dislodges it, letting it clatter on the floor. His looks back to me, flushed with red, burning with anger. What does the guardian do now?

He runs. I run to my left towards the grassy fields and as planned he follows behind. He's pretty fast for a guy suffering from blood loss. No matter, if I can just lead him on a wild goose chase away from the citizens, then knock him out then nobody else has to get hurt. I can get away scot free and the Guardian once again remains a legend.

My footsteps become lighter as they finally tread upon the grassy floor. This should be far enough. I stop one foot and twist my whole body in one turn around it. As a stroke of luck the peacekeeper is right behind me, so the other twisting foot spins round and connects with the side of his face. He falls back instantly and writhes on the ground. He's not quite unconscious yet, but I can't just leave him to faint from a lack of blood either. Too risky. Maybe if I kick him in the head again, that should work. Yes, of course! I pull back my leg as far as I can and again I strike it forwards.

But it doesn't connect. Instead it's halted. Something is holding it. With no surprise it's the peacekeeper. He sharply tugs at my ankle which causes me to fall back painfully. In an instant he turns the tables and pins my neck with his arm. The other hand reaches out the tear at my mask. I'm even screaming by this point. He can't know, HE CAN'T!

But now he does. As we share glances he shows nothing. No surprise. Nothing.

He just lets go, and leaves me to wonder why.

And to fear.


	11. My Little Minion Afterlife

**_This was a little extra chapter I'd written for a friend's syot called My Little Minion by iloverueforever but was unfortunately never published as the story was discontinued. It shows the dead tributes and minions in the afterlife, including a few of my own submitted characters (namely July, Jacinda and Ashley)_**

* * *

The tributes had never quite expected this after the blood and pain of the so called 'games'. After the sharp, blinding harshness of the blood red and the darkness of life fading, they were not quite met with the expected black. Instead, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, regardless of who they had killed, not killed or whatever they had done, each tribute had been spared the agony of death and each one had been granted the gift of the afterlife.

Each one had reached heaven.

It had taken some time for each tribute to adjust to their newfound lives. Some were a little scared at first, mainly the youngest little girls who clung close to the only safe people they knew; their tributes. Even then they were a little dumbfounded. Nonetheless, each one was now settled.

Tynan and Leonardo seemed happy enough. Both were playing tag at this current point in time, trying to pay no attention the games that were playing out.

"Ha! Can't catch me! Can't-" Tynan began arrogantly but tripped on his own clumsy feet

"ACK!"

Leonardo had obviously not been paying attention as he tripped up himself over the body of his tag partner. The two felt no pain however and fell into fits of laughter. From the side-lines, their minions Naria and Madison simply watched and giggled at the 'silly boys' as they put it.

There was even more laughter erupting not too far from the boys. Belinda and her minion Emma were stood there, dripping in luminous green dripping slime, faces blazing with fury at the two teens chuckling away at the irritated career. July, still laughing, leant onto Ember's shoulder to balance himself.

"Ha! Who even knew you could get slime in heaven!" He chuckled, turning his face towards Ember's. He happened to notice the girl staring him straight in the eyes, her gaze soft. July's laughter died down and he stared back, smiling softly. Ever so slowly, the two leaned closer and closer until finally their lips locked softly in a sweet embrace.

"Eww, they're kissing!" Alexis and Mirium squealed from next to them.

However, not all the tributes were in the same positive mood as the others. The most recent arrival, Jacinda, was curled much further away from the others along with her minion Sunny. Both of them were curled up, arms wrapped tightly around their knees. Sunny was rocking back and forth whilst Jacinda, in shock, was muttering incoherently along the lines of 'why?' and 'how could he?'. Her district partner, Jacobsan, was beside her. His arms were draped across her shoulders. He said nothing but just sat there, his eyes soft and his heart full of sympathy. His own minion Annie had her arms tightly wrapped around Sunny, never giving any sign that she was going to let go.

Not quite in the same sense, but the careers Sparkle and Skylark were also particularly unhappy. Their reason?

"Hell, they haven't killed anyone yet!" Skylark growled, glaring at the career pack below the clouds who were resting up from travelling.

"Cool it Sky" Sparkle hushed him, glancing at the career pack herself. The two watched as a parachute fell into the arena and Isabel-Skye rushed to get it. As she pulled out the shining gun, her mouth turned into a smirk. Skylark furrowed his brow and Sparkle frowned.

"What's up with her?"

Emlyn, the only calm one, rolled her eyes at their question. Inside, she could tell what the suspicious district 12 career had planned but she held her tongue and watched the other tributes with sadness. She paused to check on her minion Samantha, who was staring at the minions of Skylark and Sparkle-Emma and Mackensie.

"Ignore them" she ushered her minion, cuddling her up underneath her arm. Samantha giggled whilst Emma and Mackensie huffed.

Like Sparkle, Skylark and Emlyn there was yet another tribute watching Isabel-Skye's movements. This was none other than her fearful brother Ashley-Oak. Alone he lay, shaking violently, some tears and sniffles and he watched her anger and regret.

"Sis…I'm so sorry…why? I should've run…please, please live…"

More tears streamed down his cheeks but as he began to scream out his cried, a tiny hand squeezed his fingers. Through blurred tears he saw Lillia's sweet little eyes and he calmed down.

"Don't cry Ashwey" she whispered. Ashley-Oak sniffed one more time but tried to smile.

"Okay, thank you Lily"

Leonardo scoffed at the sappy scene. He too was paying full attention to the games, maybe more than most because his mind was clouded with fear as he was missing something every other tribute in the afterlife had arrived with.

"Madison…please don't die"


	12. Unknown Prompt (AKA Into The West)

**This was an audition piece of sorts written for a collab, though I can't remember which one. It was heavily inspired by the song 'Into the West' by Annie Lennox from The Lord of the Rings films.**

* * *

Only three days ago I was telling you all about my home district. I had described to you in detail about the vast, magnificent forests that somehow captured your wonder, yet I only associate with unwanted, endless journeys. You then went on to tell me about your district, about all the buzzing lights and technology that one of a natural district couldn't even imagine. I must've shared that same look of wonder because he laughed, but not in a hurtful way.

You told me your name was Sophia. I told you I was Joshua. Since then, we were officially a team. It was a little unexpected, coming such different places, but we knew that would be perfect as no-one would suspect it. Just before the interviews I told you that you were pretty. You called me 'adorable'. We laughed and from then we felt we could conquer anything. At that point only we existed, or at least that's what I felt. I just wish I'd told you that before, because once that last number faded that little dream-world exploded.

Everyone just started running, in random directions, into each other, looking for each other…looking for victims. Like the invisible idiot I was I stood motionless for a count of five heartbeats before the ice bit my ear and realisation struck. Soon, my legs were moving upon impulse towards the cornucopia, gloved fingers clasping at whatever they could; a few knives for myself but also a rather impressive sword. This was your favourite weapon; I meant to save it for you, and more than eager to give you such a gift I screamed "SOPHIA!"

I already mentioned I'm an idiot, right?

Yes, that one stupid moment had three careers diverting their attention from their goodies, all predatory eyes on me. The tallest, tanned boy from district four was the one who advanced first. He sneezed and was shivering slightly, looking somewhat out of place in the frozen tundra, but coming off as no less frightening. Unfortunately, at that moment, Jack Frost placed his numbing curse on my feet and for ten awful seconds it felt like I'd reached my journey's end.

Oh Sophia, but you still defied expectations. The sword in my hand disappeared, swiftly and beautifully becoming lodged in the boy's abdomen. I didn't get to watch his gruesome death as you quickly pulled me away and behind the cornucopia, out of sight. We both took a few moments to breath, but you spoke first.

"Are you alright Josh?"

I nodded, pulling the dark sleeves of my jumper to hide the small injuries I gained in the scuffle.

"Thank goodness" she said, voice full of relief. She smiled briefly, but then raised her hand slapped me hard across the cheek. I said nothing, but stared at her in shock. The smile faded, becoming wet with freezing tears slowly rolling down.

Sophia was crying.

I made her cry.

"Don't EVER worry me like that again! You could've died! You are such an idiot sometimes, and you know what? I don't even know why I allied with someone so useless" she screamed, gripping with shoulders tightly with her sharp nails, scratching through the gloves and through my jacket.

Her cold words should've hurt, but…she's right. I wanted to say something back, but…if I had been watching this on television, even I would've known I wouldn't be alive if it weren't Sophia.

The same Sophia who became quite a weight on my shoulders. The same Sophia who slipped, fell to the ground…

"SOPHIA!" I screamed. Behind her, another tanned girl was breathing heavily, holding a large ace.

"Bitch…that was for Marine" she spat, walking away, dragging the axe behind her.

All I remember was that same moment of motionlessness. Slowly, I sank to my knees and cradled your head. Snow began to envelop both us, though you more. I waited for so long, saying nothing. My patience was rewarded, as you coughed some blood and opened your eyes barely, weakly turning your face upwards to face me. Those frozen lips of yours tried to move, mouthing something like 'I didn't mean it', but the storm destroyed any sound they might've had, but I didn't need sound to understand them, so I nodded and you tried to smile. Your face froze in that smile and stayed that way.

I didn't stay though. I got up and left the snow to become your tomb, your journey's end, while continued on mine.


End file.
